I wasn’t looking for furniture. I was just having a lazy Sunday wander around one of my favourite charity shops when I saw it - a beautiful little dresser, staring straight at me.
Old dark wood, painted grey, clearly “shabby chic’ed” a while back. The paint was scuffed, the cup hooks were all crooked, and some weren’t even the right way up. But it was perfect. Big enough to store my vintage bakeware, with shelves just right for my preserving jars and bottles.
The problem? It was sitting in the middle of a section of furniture covered in “sold” stickers. I braced myself for disappointment… but there was no sticker. No price, either.
I asked the young man behind the desk (heavy metal t-shirt, headphones round his neck) if he could tell me how much. He strolled over, circled the dresser, and made a few thoughtful “hmmm” noises.
In my head, I was expecting him to say £40. I’d have paid it, but secretly, I was trying to will him to say less. I played it cool while sending out strong “please be cheap” telepathic vibes.
Finally, he looked up. “Ten pounds. Is that OK?”
Inside my head: TEN POUNDS! BARGAIN! GET IT NOW!
Out loud: “Yes, that’s OK, thank you.”
I handed over a crisp tenner, phoned my husband, and asked if he could swing by with the van. Ten minutes later, my new dresser was on its way home.
Now it’s in our side conservatory, ready for my vintage bakeware and jars like it’s always belonged there. The cup hooks are still wonky, and I rather like them that way they’re part of its story.
And that’s why I love thrifting. It’s not just about saving money or finding storage space, it’s about giving something old a new life and adding another chapter to its story.
What’s your best-ever charity shop find? I’d love to hear it in the comments and if you like stories like this, you can get more of them (plus recipes, growing tips, and making & mending inspiration) in my free This Life I Made newsletter.
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