It seems I have transferred my love of buying new clothes onto a whole new area. Books. Second hand books to be specific. Now that I’m no longer pulled like a magnet to giant SALE signs, I find myself searching for Charity shops anywhere I go. Once inside, I make a beeline for the literature. We’re talking £1 for a book that’s not even old. How had I not discovered this before? This was a hugely untapped resource.
I’d always enjoyed buying books on Amazon, but after seeing a programme on the poor treatment of Amazon employees in those giant warehouses, I now think twice before placing an order.
I spent £16.50 on thirteen books in Cancer Research. Books I’d wanted when they first came out, full price, and now I had them for £1.50 each. AND I’d given to charity. Well you see where this is going. Weeks went by and I needed my thrill. One stop at Oxfam, another at Hospice Care; twelve books later and I was laden with everything from Jane Austen to Eckhart Tolle. For once I didn’t feel guilty that “I might not wear it much” or “there’s no space in my wardrobe”. These books felt right. I would read each and every one of these books.
So I cannot buy clothes, but that’s just fine, as now I have more time for Mr McIntyre, Jonathan (Ross) and fellow shopaholic Rebecca Bloomwood. Next stop: the Library…