Jayne Dowle: A new era of faith, hope and charity shops

In Barnsley, we've even nicknamed a street "charity shop alley". The gut reaction is to bemoan this state of affairs and assume our town centres are doomed.

But hang on a minute. If charity shops are here to stay, shouldn't we embrace them and accept that they could offer us a new way of shopping?

There is no shortage of customers either. Many charities report a desperate need for stock; not only because they sell it as soon as it comes through the door, but because people are hanging on to their clothes and shoes for longer.

With less cash around, we can't afford to chuck out last year's

jumpers and that suede jacket slightly the wrong shade of green. Mind you, volunteers at a Cancer Research shop in Glasgow are celebrating. Earlier this week, they received a mystery donation, a banker's draft for 20,000 from a man who refused to leave his name.

Cinderellas of the retail world for so long, it seems that charity shops are stepping into the limelight. Even Marks & Spencer has got in on the act through its recent hook-up with Oxfam. A 5 shopping

voucher for every outworn or unwanted M&S item donated to an Oxfam shop sounds like a good deal to me. And it does wonders for M&S's caring, sharing reputation. Clever PR, isn't it?

I've been quietly working on my own personal campaign to embrace the charity shop as a major retail player. Modern charity shops are not the dusty, fusty jumble sales of old. They are bright, well-organised, and with more marketing savvy than a lot of the established retail names struggling for customers.

I put a lot of it down to the popularity of eBay. As soon as charities realised that people would pay decent money for other people's stuff, they upped their game.

And as St Gemma's Hospice in Leeds has found out, we're talking serious money. Doorstep thieves are stealing the charity bags householders leave out for collection, and selling them on to dealers in Poland who pay big bucks for Western fashions. A spokesman for the charity estimates it is costing the hospice up to 20,000 a year. Their advice is to take things directly to their shops.

I wouldn't take much persuading to pop in. I've been a charity shop addict since I was a teenager. And I still am, because I love a bargain and can't bear paying over the odds. Recent finds include plant-pots, mirrors and several designer dresses still with their original labels. I can't believe what some folk will throw out, but I recognise that wearing someone else's clothes can make some people feel a bit squeamish.

Think about it, though. Most of the crippling personal debt in this country has been amassed by individuals splurging on consumer goods. Just because we don't have much money doesn't mean we lose the urge to buy things.

Oh yes, and then there's the environment. There can't be a person in Britain who isn't aware of the need to recycle. But how many

of us actually do much more than sort our tins and newspapers into separate bins?

Charity shops are a vital cog in the wheel. Give them your unwanted items instead of throwing them away, then drop by a shop and find something you are looking for yourself. If that doesn't help to reduce the rubbish mountain, I don't know what will. Even big-ticket items, like furniture.

All it takes is a phone-call and a bit of patience until the van turns

up to take away your old sofa. You get the satisfaction of knowing

that not only will the charity benefit, but someone else, perhaps

a young couple starting out in life, will have something to sit on

without having to hit the credit card to buy it.

And talking of young people, I overhead two assistants talking in a British Heart Foundation shop last week. Both were school-leavers, volunteering to gain work experience in retail because they couldn't find paid employment. It made me think. All this is about much more than shopping. Not only do charity shops give your old things a new life, and give you the opportunity to find a bargain, they give others a chance, too.