/ (min cost $ 0 ) or signup to continue reading There are clear signs the hunt is about to begin. The ears are alert, there's steely focus in the eyes. Her breathing slows, nostrils flare as she catches the scent of prey.
He knows to stay out of the way, to find a spot in the sun and wait it out. If he's lucky, he might even share in the spoils when she returns with the catch. But this is no scene from the veldt.
It's the weekend routine at the op shop. The scent of the prey she's stalking is not the aroma of a gazelle, it's naphthalene, stirred as she riffles the racks in search of bargains. She has a remarkable ability to sniff out treasures.
Beautifully tailored pants for work. Luxurious scarves for cold winter mornings. Boots of the softest leather which appear to have never been worn.
Crocheted rugs made with love by grandmothers long gone. For him, perhaps, a hardcover Le Carre or a pair of thermal socks, brand new, the label still attached. For her, the op shop is much more interesting than the mall trawl, with its predictable and overpriced franchises and ever-shrinking department stores.
There's the thrill of not knowing what she'll find but also the knowledge that by saving money she's supporting a charity. Better still, by giving clothes a new life, she's doing her bit to cut back on Australia's appalling clothing waste. Global data analysis group Statista measures our yearly clothing waste in kilotons.
It says that in the 2021 financial year, we produced 300 kilot.