Colm O'Regan: Secondhand bargains mean a great deal in every sense

#SecondHandSeptember: use secondhand shops — not just for sustainability reasons. It could save money

I did a lot of charity-shop clothes shopping when I was a student. It was still possible in the late 90s to dress badly in college. I’m not so sure now. Everyone seems to have chosen their clothes to ‘look good in them’. Don’t get me wrong, they look quirky and daring but crucially seem to fit properly. Over time I got sick of clothes that showed I had no shoulders and got out of the habit. I got a job. The price of clothes fell, relative to everything else.

Recently though, I’ve been drifting back in, spurred a little by Secondhand September. You might have seen the hashtag #SecondHandSeptember.

The idea is to try to buy things second-hand for a month to reduce the amount of clothes and other stuff that are thrown away. It’s organised by Oxfam but I presume they won’t mind too much if you visit a different charity shop. It was a reminder to me that most of my dealings with charity shops recently have been to bring stuff to them rather than buy. We can be tempted to think of charity shops as a salve for any guilt that we’ve too many things around the place. We should also be using them.

Not just for sustainability reasons. It could save money. But I won’t be soapboxing about how ‘I don’t know why people are moaning, can’t they go to the charity shop?’ Charity shop shopping is about luck and timing and them having the thing you want when you want it. And it also relies on it being a good charity shop. Big Shops that sell new stuff cheaply will always be easier if you don’t have the time and there’s a boisterous child hanging off you and you’re afraid they’ll knock down the giant urn next to the secondhand shoes.

But while I wait for my serendipitous discovery of That Special Jumper, there’s always the toys. Charity shops can be handy for toys. They allow you to say yes to a child you’ve been saying "no, that’s too dear" to all day in the New Toy shop. And you can’t be going around Smyths shouting about "All the Plastic Is A Disgrace". People will feel judged. In a charity shop any kind of toy stands out a mile from the cake stands, skirts and carriage clocks. There isn’t a better more expensive toy in the next aisle. Charity shop staff are always happier too when you take the toys off their hands. Toys don’t stack. They’re awkward bulky plastic yokes with broken boxes out of which the small fiddly bits have fallen, in behind the Jilly Coopers (the novels, not a euphemism).

CLIMATE & SUSTAINABILITY HUB

Speaking of books, I already have an unread pile as long as my arm — if my arm was freakishly long. My solution to this is to buy more books in a charity shop. I’m fighting fire with fire.

Occasionally I’ll find one of the books I wrote in there. I have mixed emotions. It’s a thrill to see it but also a blow when the book looks suspiciously unthumbed. I’m tempted to buy them and drop them back, dog-eared and spine-broken, heavily annotated with phrases like ‘excellent point’, ‘a masterpiece’ and ‘I bet the author has killer abs’.

One tip for people close to charity shop-shoppers. When they ask you “Have a guess how much I paid for this?“ ALWAYS guess high. If you guess too low, it will break their heart.

There’s just a week and a bit of September left. But get this: Charity shops are still open after that. Happy hunting!