What ever happened to smiling charity shop ladies?

When did the staff in charity shops become so graceless? ’Tis the season of giving away (so that we have space for shiny new stuff) and, frankly, I think the front-of-house folk ought to be a bit more grateful.

What happened to all those nice elderly ladies who used to greet us, the beneficent public, with warm smiles and joy unconfined at the prospect of riffling through yet another landslide of dodgy cast-offs?

These days, you pile up bin bags of precious (OK, once-precious…) clothes, coats, bags and shoes, only to be met with a grunted injunction from a bored-looking youth to “just put them over there”, without so much as a thank-you.

Sorry? I mean, sorry? When I turned up laden last week to our local, achingly hip, charity emporium, nobody even bothered to point out they weren’t accepting donations.

I only found out once I’d staggered in, bearing 15 armfuls of stuff, that there was “do not cross” police tape blocking off the donation-dumping area.

I’m not alone in feeling miffed. A friend was furious when he turned up with a much-loved, still-smart (if a little tight) Paul Smith suit.

“I brought it in on a proper suit hanger, and the bloke behind the corner told me to chuck it with the rest of the donations,” he said.

“I said: ‘No, mate, this is a good suit, it needs to be hung up’, and the guy shrugged.

“I felt like lamping him, or taking it away. Instead, I marched over and hung it up on a rail myself.”

Dearie me. I’m not sure that’s the feel-good retail factor Mary Portas was aiming for when she transformed the nation’s charity outlets into stylish destination shops.

Is it really too much to expect a little charm in return for our £270 millionworth of philanthropic donations every year?

Honestly, it’s as if they think they’re the ones doing us a favour by taking all our unwanted junk.