I don't know
"To get to the second-hand shop!"
That's a proper good joke that is. I can't walk past a second-hand shop without popping in. I'm not usually expecting to find anything but my well-practised eye can spot a good pattern, some quality wool or a sparkly, bling brooch quite quickly. I have passed my love of the charity shop to my kids where they have soon learnt that their pocket money goes a really, really long way. This weekend we strolled past the Trinity Hospice shop on Wandsworth Common, it had two beautiful whippets peering out of the door, the colour of seals with the velvetiness of moles - we were enticed in by their kind faces and chocolatey eyes.
And what a treasure trove inside. Rails of designer cast-offs without the prices, jean brands I had only ever heard of in magazines for £10, shoes by Prada and Paul Smith, some red sunglasses so bad they were good and the most enigmatic shop assistant of all. I came out smiling with four items to sip cocktails in, to attend a good garden party and to dance the night away.
Pretty huh? £12 thank you very much