Bank holiday weekends hold a special place in my heart. Not because I’m particularly patriotic or have any idea which historical event most of them commemorate (sorry, GCSE History teacher), but because they represent that magical intersection of having both time off and sales happening simultaneously. It’s like the universe is saying, “Here you go, Olivia. Go forth and make questionable financial decisions while telling yourself they’re actually brilliant investments.”
I’ve spent approximately 67% of my adult bank holidays either physically shopping or hunched over my laptop refreshing pages with the manic intensity of someone trying to get Glastonbury tickets. My poor credit card has learned to expect a workout every time a three-day weekend approaches. I’ve developed something of a sixth sense for which retailers will drop their prices and exactly when to pounce. It’s possibly my most useless superpower, but here we are.
Last May bank holiday, I found myself in a changing room at 9:17 AM on Saturday morning, surrounded by a small mountain of linen pieces I’d been stalking online for weeks. The sales assistant kept giving me concerned looks, probably wondering if I was planning to move in. “I’ve been waiting for these to go on sale,” I explained through the curtain as I wrestled with a jumpsuit that definitely looked easier to get into on the website. She just nodded sympathetically. Retail workers on bank holiday weekends deserve combat pay, honestly.
The memory of triumphantly leaving with four perfectly fitting items at 25% off still brings me joy. So does the linen blazer I’m wearing as I type this, which has since accompanied me to two weddings, one job interview, and a somewhat awkward first date where I was definitely better dressed than him. Cost per wear? Pennies at this point. This is how I justify all my bank holiday purchases to myself, and sometimes it’s even true.
So as another bank holiday looms on the horizon, I feel it’s my professional duty to share the wisdom accumulated through years of strategic shopping. Consider this your battlefield map for navigating the sales with minimal financial regret and maximum wardrobe enhancement.
First things first: timing is everything. Most online sales now start before the actual bank holiday—usually the Wednesday or Thursday before. This is particularly true for the bigger department stores like Selfridges and Harvey Nichols, who tend to give their online customers a head start. Set calendar alerts, sign up for newsletters you’ll immediately regret cluttering your inbox, do whatever it takes to get that early access. Nothing—and I mean nothing—is more satisfying than snagging the last cashmere hoodie in your size while other people are still unaware the sale has even started.
I learned this lesson the hard way three bank holidays ago when I waited until Saturday morning to check a particular retailer’s site, only to find everything I’d mentally pre-selected was gone. I still think about that navy silk midi dress sometimes. We could have been so happy together.
Physical stores are a different beast entirely. While many launch their sales online first, there’s often in-store stock that never made it to the website. This is especially true for smaller boutiques. Last August bank holiday, I stumbled into a tiny shop in Marylebone I’d never visited before and found a rail of past-season Ganni at 70% off. The saleswoman told me they’d only put it out that morning. I still feel guilty about how smugly I messaged my group chat about this discovery.
Department stores typically restock their sale sections each morning of the bank holiday weekend, so if you’re serious about it, getting there for opening time isn’t overkill. I once spotted a fashion editor I deeply respect power-walking through Selfridges at 9:30 AM on a bank holiday Saturday with the focused determination of someone on a very specific mission. Our eyes met, we nodded in silent recognition of our shared purpose, and continued on our separate hunting expeditions. Fashion solidarity at its finest.
Now, about those smaller, independent boutiques—they’re the secret weapon in bank holiday shopping. While everyone else is fighting over the last medium at & Other Stories, these little gems often have quieter but equally good discounts. They’re also more likely to negotiate if you’re buying multiple items. That gorgeous independent shop you walk past and think “I’ll go in someday when I have more time”? Bank holiday weekend is that someday. Trust me.
I’ve developed close personal relationships with sales assistants at several smaller London boutiques purely by showing up reliably every bank holiday. There’s a woman at a shop in Islington who now texts me when certain designers I like go on sale. Christmas came early last bank holiday when she messaged: “Just put the Rixo dresses you liked on sale, put one in the back for you.” This is the kind of VIP treatment money can’t buy (though, to be fair, the amount I’ve spent in that shop probably paid for her holiday last year).
Online versus in-store is the eternal bank holiday shopping dilemma. Online means you can shop in pajamas with a cup of tea and comparison check prices, but in-store means you can actually try things on and sometimes find unadvértised specials. My solution? Both. I generally do a reconnaissance mission online in the days leading up, identify key targets, then hit select stores in person while keeping my phone handy to check online exclusives between shops.
Last bank holiday, this hybrid approach led to me sitting on a bench outside Covent Garden, balancing a takeaway coffee on my knee while panic-purchasing a jumpsuit on my phone that had just gone on sale online but wasn’t available in the store I’d just left. A tourist asked if I needed medical assistance. “Fashion emergency,” I explained. She nodded as if this was a completely reasonable response.
As for which retailers reliably deliver the goods during bank holidays, I’ve compiled mental notes over years of strategic shopping. The high street big hitters—H&M, Zara, Mango, & Other Stories—typically do 20-25% off, though Zara infuriatingly often waits until after bank holidays for their big seasonal sales. Mid-range brands like Whistles, Reiss, and Jigsaw usually offer around 30% off selected lines, while department stores can go up to 50% on certain designers depending on the time of year.
The May bank holiday specifically tends to catch the tail end of spring stock as retailers make space for high summer collections. This makes it perfect for snagging those transitional pieces that actually work year-round in Britain’s perpetually confused climate. Last year, I found a perfect trench coat at 40% off that I’ve worn in literally every month since purchasing. When you live somewhere where “summer” can mean anything from 32 degrees to sleet within the same week, these multi-seasonal items are gold.
Of course, there are the psychological pitfalls of sale shopping that I’m embarrassingly familiar with. The “it’s such a good deal I have to buy it” trap has led to me owning a chartreuse satin skirt that has left my wardrobe precisely zero times since purchase. The “it’s a little tight but I’ll lose weight” delusion resulted in a pair of jeans that mock me from the back of my closet. And who among us hasn’t fallen for the “it’s designer so it’s automatically a good investment” lie? My very expensive mistake from two bank holidays ago still has the tags on. Sometimes I take it out just to stroke it and whisper apologies for not being the sort of person who actually attends events requiring sequined evening wear.
To combat these sale-induced moments of temporary insanity, I’ve developed a few rules. First, no matter how good the discount, if I wouldn’t consider it at full price, it’s not actually a bargain. Second, if I can’t think of at least three existing items in my wardrobe it works with, I walk away. Third, anything that doesn’t fit perfectly in the changing room never magically fits better at home. Never. This last rule has saved me thousands over the years, though I still occasionally convince myself I’m the exception. Reader, I am not.
These days, I also try to approach bank holiday shopping with at least some semblance of strategy rather than just buying anything shiny with a red sale sticker. Before the weekend hits, I take inventory of what I actually need (with “need” doing a lot of heavy lifting here) and set a budget that I pretend I’ll stick to. Having specific items in mind helps navigate the overwhelming sea of options and prevents ending up with yet another black top that’s imperceptibly different from the twelve I already own.
Last bank holiday, my shopping list read: “lightweight blazer, white summer dress, comfortable smart sandals.” What I bought: all of those things plus a straw bag, two t-shirts “because they’re basics,” and a pair of earrings I’d never previously considered but suddenly couldn’t live without. Progress, not perfection.
For online shopping, I’ve learned to create wishlists ahead of time so I can quickly check what’s gone on sale rather than falling down a rabbit hole of browsing. Most sites let you see when items from your wishlist are discounted, which feels like getting a little ping of dopamine directly to your brain. I also keep a document of measurements for things like my favorite jeans and tops to compare against online size guides, having learned the hard way that a Medium at one shop is wildly different from a Medium at another. Nothing kills the sale-shopping buzz quite like paying for return shipping.
One final tip I’ve gleaned from years in the fashion trenches: bank holiday Monday itself can sometimes yield the deepest discounts as retailers get desperate to clear stock before the weekend ends. It’s a gamble—your size might be gone—but if you’re not after something specific, the additional reductions can be substantial. Two years ago, I walked into a high-end boutique at 4 PM on bank holiday Monday and found they’d just slashed their sale prices by an additional 20%. The assistant was literally still putting the new tags on. It felt like stumbling into a sample sale without having to queue at dawn.
So as this bank holiday approaches and you find yourself tempted by the siren call of percentage-off emails flooding your inbox, remember: strategic is better than frenzied, trying things on is non-negotiable, and sometimes the best purchase is the one you walk away from. Unless it’s cashmere at 70% off, in which case all rules are suspended and you should buy two.
And if you spot me speed-walking through Liberty on Saturday morning with the focused expression of someone on a mission, just know I’ve been planning my route since they sent the “preview our sale” email three days ago. This isn’t amateur hour—it’s bank holiday shopping, and I’m here to win.