Buying vintage is very ‘in’ at the moment with all the fashionistas doing it.

I’ve been scouring second-hand shops for treasures since the early ‘90s (way before it was trendy) only then we called it op-shopping – short for opportunity shopping. And what a perfect name: endless opportunities await those who are patient enough to browse rack upon rack of discarded apparel.

Back in my Narrabundah College days I spent many a Thursday afternoon (double free period – yes!) bussing to Fyshwick with a few friends to check out our fave shops. We weren’t your average Sportsgirl or Portmans kind of girls (or guys – there was one guy) preferring to create styles so individual no one could replicate them. That, and we had practically no money to speak of, hence our fashion houses of choice were ‘Design by Salvos’, ‘Koomari Couture’ and ‘House of Vinnies’.

Koomari was our favourite and always the first stop. The bell would ring as we opened the door, alerting a smiling volunteer to our presence. A wall of windows allowed natural light to flood the massive, high-ceilinged room and we would disperse to our preferred racks with glee. I still have a turquoise velvet coat from those days, an extravagant purchase at $25.

Vinnies was different. It looked less inviting with its prehistoric carpet and flickering fluorescent lights. It also smelt less inviting – as if someone had gone door to door collecting whiffs of lounge rooms and sprayed the resultant mélange around the store. But we didn’t mind, in fact we believed it meant that others would stay away, leaving the good stuff for us. Like a pale blue carry case I still keep my nail polish in, a sparkly green and blue high-necked sleeveless top I wore to my year 12 graduation and a pair of hand painted floral overalls for my friend Ben.

At uni I was still short on cash (surprising, I know) but had enough money to buy hats, gloves and scarves by the dozen, as well as the occasional teapot, as long as I stuck to my second-hand shopping haunts.

Once I had a Real Job I spent money in Real Shops because I could afford to, but it wasn’t long before I returned to the op-shop way for the fun of the chase and the thrill of the find. There’s nothing quite like that moment of picking out something gorgeous and noting the $4.50 price tag. Then comes the hope-filled excitement of trying it on (simultaneously clasping the curtain shut, as there is never quite enough material to cover the whole doorway of the cubicle). Of course there’s the compulsory ‘it fits’ happy dance sometimes finishing up with a surprise at the counter (“all yellow tags are 50% off today!”) to paint an irremovable smile on one’s face.

These days I go op-shopping as quality time with my ten-year-old. In January we checked out an op-shop in Bateman’s Bay and were thrilled to find that all sleeveless tops were $1.50 that day. Shopping with a friend (or daughter) is great as one can hold the curtain shut while the other tries on clothes. It’s also fun to have someone laugh with you when an item is so so wrong, or celebrate with you when it sits just perfectly and highlights all your best bits.

I must admit though, I do love to shop alone. On those days when retail therapy is necessary I feel a smug satisfaction buying two ‘new’ tops, a skirt and a pair of jeans for under $20, knowing that if I’d spent the day in Civic I could be hundreds of dollars poorer and add guilt to whatever negative emotions pushed me to spend money in the first place.

What’s your best ever op-shop purchase?