Forget sales, head to Oxfam
By Sarah Mower, Evening Standard
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The tantalising article of my desires - a beautiful satin ribbon lace cardigan, pale coffee coloured, sprinkled with minute crystals - was not on display in Prada, Gucci or Selfridges. I wasn't succumbing to old-style Nineties "designer waiting list" fever. I was staring into the window of Oxfam.
Now, I thought I was already hip to the revolution at Oxfam's shops - but the cardigan incident opened my eyes to the scale and energy of what's going on in the once-frowsty world of charity shopping.
Cleaner, brighter, more colour coordinated and label-aware, some of them are now aspiring to the level of designer boutiques, selling one-off clothes (some brand new) at distinctly non-jumble-sale prices. At a time when mainstream high-street retailing is going through its worst patch since 1995, sales growth at Oxfam went up 20 per cent. Before our eyes, whizzy marketing is meeting what Oxfam calls "the new altruism".
Areas blessed with footballers' wives are the most extreme examples of what's happening. Alderley Edge in Cheshire, home to the Manchester United girls, now boasts the first Barnardo's Boutique, elegantly fitted with wooden floors and chandeliers, where manageress Melanie Connor is currently selling a Chloe jacket at £250, Prada trainers for £90 and a Versace leather jacket for £150. "This is a small village," she says, "but word is out. People come from far and wide, Sheffield and Wales, to shop here."
In London's footballer belt, the Oxfam to check out is at Cobham - if you're in the market for stuff that might have passed, barely touched, through the wardrobes of the Chelsea girls (John Terry, Frank Lampard and Glen Johnson all have properties nearby). There, on the right day, you might snap up pieces from Chanel, Burberry, Helmut Lang, Fendi, Dior or Lacroix, or Louis Vuitton and Gucci bags (starting at £100).
"We're in the fortunate position of being able to sell more upmarket stock due to the demand," says manageress Jane Theodore. "We may gradually phase out more highstreet labels to make way for more designer brands."
Cleverly, Oxfam understands the essential attraction of this kind of shopping - apart from the holy feeling you get, there has to be the thrill of discovery, too. "We bury highprice labels in among ordinary stock," says Theodore. "This way we preserve the charity-shop tradition of customers rifling through bins and hangers in search of a steal. The look of joy on people's faces when they've found something they adore for a reasonable price is extraordinary. But you've got to be pretty quick off the mark." As I know. When I sauntered into Oxfam, Kensington High Street, to buy "my" cardigan, I was told I had to come back at 10am on Friday, when the display came down. I wasn't allowed to pay upfront.
Slightly miffed, I had a browse along the rails and spotted a fantastic 1980s crushed-velvet Yves Saint Laurent suit (£98) and a collectible 1970s Jean Muir dress (£80). I made a mental note to scoop the lot when I returned two days later.
But I hadn't bargained on the competition. Turning up at 9.58am, there were already three other customers outside. When the doors opened, they charged for the checkout. "First come, first served!" trilled the lady, and to my disbelief, the man in front of me asked for the cardigan. "But ... but, I asked for this on Wednesday!" I protested weakly. "I came back specially."
"This is for my mother-in-law," he replied, triumphantly. Beaten, I turned to look for the YSL and the Jean Muir. Both gone.
Despite my annoyance, Oxfam has become one of my favourite places to shop. At Christmas, in the Hammersmith branch, I found handmade wooden toys and a delightful soft nativity set (all made in Oxfam projects-abroad) for all my nephews and nieces. In Marylebone High Street, I love the specialist Oxfam book and music shop (as do Noel Gallagher and Danny Baker, and many other DJs).
This week, the Marylebone shop had a window display of books about Africa to coincide with the G8 summit. The Portobello Road Oxfam bookshop had put together a window of literature celebrating the Battle of Trafalgar, all from second-hand donations. I came out with some great Seventies records and Flora Fraser's book about the daughters of George III (published last year), which I've been wanting to read.
One man is responsible for these developments. Trading director Chris Coe (who's worked at Mothercare and Bhs) arrived at Oxfam in 2001, when its takings had slumped to £6.1 million.
Last month, thanks to Coe's retailing skills and Oxfam's initiatives with Fairtrade products, the charity announced that its sales had passed £20 million for the first time.
"Our figures actually suggest people are spending just as much, but differently," says Coe. "We put this down to the quality of the donations we receive, the hard work of our 20,000 volunteer staff, and a shift in consumer attitudes towards conscience shopping."
I don't know about you, but I like being part of that. [/align]