The second in my series of sharing my secondhand buying secrets focusing on how to get the most from Ebay. All my top tips on finding heirloom treasures for your home to cosy cashmere for the chilly months.
It was a Miss Sixty Coat from Germany back in 2001 that got me hooked on the non-stop bargain merry-go-round that is Ebay. That first Ebay purchase never actually arrived, but that didn’t put me off.
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Before the sun rose on cold, often wet, Sunday mornings my mum and I would leave our seafront flat in Brighton (me in my buggy) and head to the station for the weekly car boot sale. Before I could even walk I bore witness to my market-trader mum bartering, haggling and sniffing out the treasures that furnished our home. To say second-hand treasure hunting is in my DNA would be an understatement, it’s my way of life.
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‘Me time’. Self Care. Unwind. Rest & Relaxation. Filling your cup. Whatever we call it, apparently we’re not getting enough of it. According to a study* carried out by British bed manufacturer, Rest Assured, we’re getting an average of 40 minutes a day to ourselves. So, what do we do with that precious time and is it beneficial to our well-being?
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It’s been referred to as “the hole of doom” – it’s the place from which the din of Youtube rings, sofa wrestling settles remote-based disputes and a space that style (and I) forgot; it’s our lounge. Since our mammoth extensions were ‘finished’ (I use that word very loosely!), the lounge has become somewhere to assemble rowdy tweens for giant sleepovers, chuck/hide all Casper’s brightly coloured, plastic tat and very occasionally retire to once all the kids have gone to bed (that’s between 9.30pm and when I doze off 5 minutes later!). It’s been promised a plywood barn sliding door, a dramatic colour splash and layered rugs to make a Persian prince envious – but so far, I’ve failed to deliver on its style makeover.
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They’d long been the unmentioned, embarrassing and hidden away members of our family; neglected, covered up and forgotten about. But after our extension was complete and we’d all moved back in to our immaculate white walled rooms, I couldn’t take the shame under the fitted sheets any longer. Hugo and Bruno had had their knackered, Swedish super-store, grey (with various other colour markings!) mattresses for far longer than they should have, and at 9 and 10 had earned the trust to not piddle in their beds any longer – so began the hunt for quality mattresses to ensure those two monsters got the best nights sleep possible.
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