I work (free) for two local charities and am chief sorter of clothes at the shops together with my mate who is a clothes designer for the-pricy-end-of-the-high-street stores. Together we barrel through sorting about 300 kilos of clothes a week. Shops are in a naice bit of London but there is, of course, a lot of local poverty.
Can you help us? What we really want to know is what you want most from a decent charity shop. Be as ambitious as you want - yes, we do get unworn Prada occasionally. Or as basic - I am currently sporting some second hand yoga pants because I'm too mean to buy them new. What do you think about pricing these days - ludicrous or worth it for good stuff?
In return, I promise to spill about the inner workings of your favourite haunt. For a start:
- No, of course the volunteers don't get all the best stuff free - we get it at a howlingly generous 25 per cent discount. Which doesn't even cover the lunches and fares we don't get. Volunteering really is a labour of love.
- Yes, some of the best stuff is horrifically overpriced. I get the remainders of stock from the capital's best areas to assess and without fail it's always the truly delicious pickings that are left: because some greedy brute has priced them each at 50 quid. Which the sort of locals who use the shops can't pay. (I reprice at a tenner and it sells the same day, btw)
- No, you don't need to be a retail expert to be in charge (although we sort of are) but you do need the biceps of Geoff Capes. 300 kg of textiles is a lot. We carry them all up and downstairs, to cellars, onto lorries, you name it.
- Yes, 80 per cent of the stuff we get is rubbish. And that's on a good day - I don't think the collective nerves of the MN ladeez are tough enough to withstand details of some of the stuff I've dealt with. FYI, the rankest section of the population is the teen girl - they put the used-incontinence-pad donations of their elders to shame.
- Finally, it's always worth asking for a discount if there is a flaw in a garment. We can all make a mistake in the sorting room, and the worst you get told is no.