Opportunity

As an adolescent, being dragged to op-shops was one of my least favourite activites. There was never anything in the clothing racks that I liked (all I wanted was new clothes, like my friends wore) and my thrifty mother always spent far too long perusing the shelves.

As an adult, however, I’ve embraced the joy of op-shopping. Oh, the treasures waiting to be reclaimed. Racks and racks of clothing sorted by colour, and that familiar, indeterminable smell. Ironically, the reason I hated op-shopping as a teenager is the same reason I find myself frequenting them today; when it comes to clothes, I’m fussy. The latest thing in fashion may not suit my body shape, or I’m looking for something specific that isn’t currently available in stores (like a particular cut of jeans). They can also be a great place for cheap fabric remnants, if you’re getting crafty and need a little piece of something.

The pricing policies of Goodwill and Vinnies are sensible, with all items either whole dollar amounts or multiples of 50c. The Salvos, on the other hand, persist in tacking 99 cents on to the end of every price tag, even though when you pay for said item, the price is rounded up to the whole dollar figure. It’s not as though they’re selling big ticket items!

Sadly, not all op-shops are created equal. Some stores are frequent winners with quality goods and coveted brands, while others struggle with misshapen jumpers and a sea of polyester. I’ve long wondered whether donations are taken to a central collection point, sorted and redistributed across the state, or whether goods donated to a particular store end up back on the racks of that store. (It would explain why the Vinnies in Norwood has Sass & Bide and Bettina Liano jeans.)

I do feel a little sorry for the op-shopping men-folk out there. They usually don’t have the range to choose from that we women have. Perhaps women buy more clothes in general, and are better at parting with those rejected items which inhabit the dark corners of our wardrobes. Sometimes it takes a bit of imagination to see the potential in a pre-loved garment. Adjust the hems, add or remove embellishments and voilà – a new life awaits.

Ultimately the joy in op-shopping (besides finding a bargain) is discovering those items – good and bad – you wouldn't find anywhere else and can’t help but take home. I give you exhibit A: brand-new handmade mittens. Price: $1. High five!