My love affair with op shopping

I WHOLEHEARTEDLY blame my grandma for my love of op shops.

It all started before I went to school. As I was a very excitable (another term for talkative and a little bit of a handful) girl, my long-suffering parents would ship me off to my grandma’s for visits (aka time out for them).

In the beginning, my grandma would bribe me by saying we would visit op shops and if I was good (and didn’t wander off or mess up my dress which she had painstakingly made from fabrics she collected on said shopping trips) I was rewarded with a sweet treat. I’ve always been a sucker for cake.

At the start, and while biding my time before an attack on the cake stand, I used the time in shops to work out ways to remove the stupid girly ribbons from my unruly hair without my eagle-eyed grandma noticing, but then over time I began to explore the wonders of the charity shops we visited.

At first I would wander behind my stylish grandma and just touch all the beautiful fabric, but I soon began to pick up her tricks of the trade.  Over time, her lessons on what fabrics to look for, how to look for good-quality labels and find quality clothes that with a little nip and a tuck there, would make a stunning and timeless piece began to connect.

And then it happened. One day we went to our favourite charity store – I still remember it as it was two streets away from a wonderful cake kitchen where the owner used to slip me ginger cookies with my milkshake – and lo and behold they had a sale. Fill a bag with anything from the store – for just $2.

Grandma handed me my own shopping bag and, in doing so, gave me the plastic reins to my lifelong passion for op shops. I never looked back.

I even decided to launch my own education campaign by taking friends (and later discerning fashionista customers as I liked to call them) on op shop tours in my battered baby poo-coloured Toyota Corolla, which itself should have been in a vintage shop.

My favourite joke at barbecues is that through my op shops I’ve supported just about every charity there is and how can my husband question my shopping sprees when I say “but it supports charities”.

But I have noticed a trend in the past five years. No longer am I receiving odd looks when I say “oh this old thing? I picked this up at an op shop in West End.” Now people are saying “so can you give me some tips on how to get some similar bargains myself, I’m so tired of wearing all the same stuff as everyone else.”

Op shopping is no longer considered daggy. It’s considered normal for anyone – from any social status – to rifle through racks upon racks at charity shops for that special item, at a fraction of the price of new items or those seen at the growing number of vintage shops there seem to be.

On top of making use of the opportunity for budget-conscious shopping, people are opting for op shops in search of their own piece of individuality and for the joy of the search. They like going into a shop, rifling through racks of clothes and coming out with a handful of items (while not breaking the bank) which are unique and theirs.  I dare anyone not to give themselves a mental high five when they stumble upon a designer item (with the tags still on) at a ridiculously low price.

For me, op shops provide you with individual pieces, with their own stories, while providing worthwhile charities funding for their great work. It’s philanthropy at play, and I get a nice jacket for my trouble.

It is truly the piece that just keeps on giving. And as for my grandma, if you see a red-haired woman in Indooroopilly, with cake crumbs on her stylish lapel, rifling through racks. Stay clear she’s a professional.

Happy op shopping!  

Tomorrow, I'll list my top 15 tips to successful op shopping.  Keep posted.