Sorry, how much is that rubbish? Oh, I want one now...
>> Wednesday, April 20, 2011
I sometimes go into charity shops, and even go as far as to buy things from them. There, I said it! I even said it on the interwebs and everything. I'm not embarrassed by this, but what I do remember is at school, it was somehow the ultimate insult that something you owned helped to do a small bit of good in the world via it's second hand purchase. I remember a girl who was massively picked on because she had a bike that came courtesy of a Marie Curie shop for £3. Nowadays, it's not so bad to go in and see what you can find, especially if it's something for a one-off or to get dirty. However, this isn't the main reason I'll be seen going into them. It's because they are home to some absolute stonkers that, somehow, the lady behind the counter who looks as animatronic as the cash register didn't realise was worth a fortune/rare/explosive. I've bought a pair of brand new Converse shoes in an Oxfam for £8, as opposed to the £50 I planned to pay. I was mightily impressed with myself, but nowhere near as impressed as I was with a friend of mine, who wondered into a Cancer Research shop, gave the robot lady the £4.50 that was on the price tag... and walked out as the proud owner of nearly £1,000 worth of (seemingly) brand new Gucci handbag!
