I have no love at all for this very plain and rather ineffectual kitchen light. When I moved into my new house, the light was even missing its shade, so I planned to replace the whole fixture at the earliest opportunity. But then I found a shade for $2 in an op shop in the next town. When the shade snapped into place - it was actually the right size! - it felt so serendipitous that I no longer plan to get rid of it.

The same op shop also had a brass pendant light for $10 (reduced to $5 when the ladies noticed it hadn't been cleaned) which happens to be the exact same style as the ones hanging in  the pub. "That's a good thing?" a friend who doesn't go to the pub much said. "Yes, it's a good thing," I said. I go the pub all the time.  

I collect cords. Not on purpose, of course, it’s just that every machine or appliance that comes into the house comes with a cord. Or requires a cord. And whenever one of those machines or appliances leaves the house in a state of disrepair, I keep the cord. Just in case. But I’m about to move, and while it’s one thing to keep a jumble of redundant cords out of sight at the back of a cupboard, it’s quite another to put them into a box and purposely cart them to a new home. But what if I need one of those cords down the track? As I was  packing last night, I had an epiphany: I’d donate them to an op shop. But not just any op shop, my local. That way, if I ever need one of those cords again, I can just mosey on into the township and buy it back. Cords are one of the slower-moving items at my local op shop, but there is a basket dedicated to housing them. And for half of those cords, it is the basket from whence they came.     

To start off with, my microwave was already a bit trashed. During the shift to our new house, the liquid crystal in the display panel somehow dispersed and then disappeared. Ever since, I've been inputting the cooking times blind. But hey, I can do that.

Then I dropped the turntable while cleaning it (I knew cleaning the microwave was a mistake) and it smashed on the floor. I didn't think to keep the broken pieces for matching purposes, so for months I brought home replacement turntables from op shops only to find they weren't quite right. Who knew microwave turntables came in such a variety? And when a turntable isn't quite right, it tends to go off-kilter and stop spinning, so you have to keep an eye on whatever it is you're heating. Honestly, how much more white trash could a microwave get?

Finally, two weeks ago, I walked into a Mornington op shop and found the right-sized turntable with the right-shaped hollow in the middle of it for my particular microwave. Yippee!

Of course, I would never have gone out and bought a new microwave (that would have been one more microwave ending up in landfill) but I was sorely tempted to buy a new second-hand microwave if I'd come across one before coming across this turntable. But only if was $5 or less.

Microwave turntable, 50 cents
Three Legged Chair

Electric Mavis
luminare, $595

The phrase “Made in China” hasn’t always been a byword for mass-produced tat. Porcelain was made in China as early as 200 BCE, and the English-language practice of referring to it as “china” came about in the 17th century because exported Chinese porcelains were so highly regarded. A French priest in China learned the manufacturing technique with the assistance of his Chinese Catholic converts, and his findings became widely-known after they were published in the Jesuit mission’s annual report in 1735. The famed translucence of porcelain and bone china is what Gregory Bonasera looks for in the pre-loved cups and saucers he uses for this design. Customers can also supply their own favourite china to create a uniquely personalised light fitting.

HP Deskjet 810 Printer, $3

Convicted criminals aren’t the most heartrending choice of charity recipient. You won’t be seeing a B-grade celebrity hosting a Prison Fellowship Good Friday Appeal any time soon. But the Christian ministry behind the Prison Fellowshop Victoria Op Shop believes that if ex-prisoners and their families are offered assistance in their transition to life outside jail they will be less likely to re-offend, and we will all be better off. There were two colour printers for sale the day I visited. Priced at just $3 each, I was willing to take a chance on one. In my experience, few op shops put out electrical goods that don’t work, and fewer still refuse you a refund if that turns out to be the case.

VCRs for sale at the Outlook Market

Adults born in different decades can nonetheless recall many of the same films, but children born in different decades often haven’t even heard of the same films. I recently bought All Dogs Go to Heaven (1989), The Magic Riddle (1991) and The Swan Princess (1994). There isn’t much to lead a child of today to such films. No merchandise in shops, no screenings on TV, no Disney “vault” and no way to compete with the newer releases at Video Ezy. Many older animated films have all but disappeared from the popular imagination, but they do line the shelves of op shops as dusty videos. Eventually, an op shop will also be the only place to find that quaint twentieth century machine needed to play them.

Second-hand brass base, $110
Edwardian shade, $70

Currently, my signature gift to bring to weddings and significant birthdays is a lavish cookbook, but for a while it was throws made of vintage saris. And prior to that it was lamps. During a particularly eventful year, I bought no less than six lamps from Gregory’s Antiques and Lights. Like a kid in a lolly shop, you choose a brass base, then an original Victorian, Edwardian, or Art Deco shade to go with it.

Acer 660, $400

During a lunch with relatives it was revealed that I used a Pentium II personal computer at home. Everyone was aghast and my aunt turned to my younger brother, who is considered to be the upwardly mobile one of the family, and said: "For God's sake, buy your sister a better computer!" After lunch, my brother and I duly went round the corner to a store selling second-hand computers and at the counter my brother pulled out his wallet. "You don't have to buy me a computer just because Aunt Sabrina says so," I pointed out, and he nodded and put his wallet away. He did, however, ask the sales assistant a few pertinent questions on my behalf and tested out all the letters on the keyboard before I bought this laptop.

Telephone cord, 50 cents

Some things are a joy to shop for. I’ve just moved to a house in the country and I’m looking forward to scouring the markets and antique centres in the area for the perfect fireplace screen and cheval mirror. I also needed a new telephone cord when I moved in but there’s no fun in shopping for that. Black or beige, long or short, who cares? Fortunately, I found one on my first foray into the local op shop. It wasn’t exactly a joy to purchase, but at least the idea of a telephone cord saved from landfill via a small contribution to the community purse was a little bit satisfying.