Last Saturday, I was in Marlborough—that picturesque Wiltshire town where the high street looks like it was designed specifically for Richard Curtis to film charming scenes of Englishness—when I spotted it in the window of an Oxfam shop: a perfectly preserved 1970s Jaeger wool coat in camel, exactly my size, priced at £28. I was inside the shop in seconds, had tried it on in under a minute, and was at the till before anyone else could even register what a find it was.
“That came in yesterday,” the volunteer told me as she carefully wrapped it in tissue paper. “Lovely lady brought in three bags of things after clearing her mother’s house. There was a Burberry trench as well, but that went within the hour.”
And there it was—the secret thrill of charity shopping distilled into a single encounter. The knowledge that for every ten rails of polyester blouses and stretched-out Primark jumpers, there’s occasionally a genuine treasure hiding in plain sight. The joy of finding something that whispers of quality, history, and someone else’s excellent taste, all for less than you’d spend on two cocktails in London.
I’ve been a dedicated charity shop hunter since my student days, when financial necessity made vintage and secondhand the only feasible way to feed my fashion obsession. But even now, with a wardrobe that includes pieces I’ve saved for and invested in, nothing quite beats the rush of a spectacular charity shop find. It’s fashion’s equivalent of panning for gold—hours of sifting through sediment rewarded by the occasional gleaming nugget.
Over years of dedicated research (by which I mean spending far too many weekends browsing Cancer Research UK when I should have been meeting deadlines), I’ve developed some theories about which towns yield the best results. And I’m not alone in this quasi-scientific approach. My friend Leila, a stylist whose job involves sourcing vintage pieces for photoshoots, has a detailed spreadsheet of charity shop destinations ranked by success rate. Another colleague makes a specific detour on her drive to visit her parents, just to hit a row of particularly fruitful shops in a Berkshire market town.
So what makes a good charity shop town? Several factors come into play, creating a perfect storm of secondhand potential.
First, you need affluent residents who regularly clear out quality wardrobes. Areas with high proportions of middle-class professionals, particularly those working in creative industries who might invest in interesting pieces, tend to yield better donations. These are people who buy well in the first place and are likely to donate rather than sell items they no longer wear.
Second, you want a demographic with a relatively high turnover of possessions—whether that’s due to frequent home moves, changing body shapes, or simply an enthusiasm for refreshing their wardrobes. University towns often perform well on this metric, with their constantly shifting population of students and academics.
Third, you need enough charity shops in close proximity to make a dedicated trip worthwhile, but not so many that the quality donations are spread too thinly across too many stores.
Finally—and this is crucial—you want an area that’s affluent enough to generate quality donations but not so fashionable that there’s an army of resellers hitting the shops daily, snapping up anything remotely desirable before casual browsers stand a chance.
With these factors in mind, let me share some of the towns and areas that have consistently delivered for me and my fellow charity shop enthusiasts over the years. Consider this your treasure map to the UK’s secondhand fashion goldmines.
Marlow in Buckinghamshire sits at the top of many charity shop aficionados’ lists, and with good reason. This Thames-side town has the perfect combination of wealthy residents with good taste and just enough charity shops to concentrate the quality donations without diluting them. The Oxfam there once yielded a near-perfect Mulberry Bayswater for my colleague Sophie—with the dustbag still inside—for £80. A fraction of the retail price, yes, but the relatively high tag for a charity shop item meant it hadn’t been immediately snapped up by resellers.
Henley-on-Thames offers similar demographic advantages to Marlow, with the added bonus of receiving donations from the rowing community—which means an abundance of high-quality casual wear from brands like Ralph Lauren and Barbour. The British Heart Foundation shop there has an impressively curated selection that changes regularly, suggesting someone on their volunteer team has a good eye for what deserves prominent display.
Moving north, Harrogate in North Yorkshire is something of a legendary destination among serious charity shoppers. The town’s combination of historic wealth, spa culture (meaning visitors who might forget to pack items and hastily purchase replacements), and slightly older demographic creates a perfect storm for quality donations. The rows of charity shops on Commercial Street and Oxford Street can easily fill a day of browsing. My friend Priya once found an unworn pair of Church’s brogues for £40 there, still with the original insoles completely unmarked.
Cheltenham follows a similar pattern to Harrogate—spa town, affluent residents, slightly older demographic—but with the added advantage of proximity to the Cotswolds, meaning weekend homes being cleared out and the occasional celebrity donation. The Oxfam Boutique on Bath Road is particularly well-curated, while the Sue Ryder on High Street often has designer pieces separated into a special section.
For those in the Southeast, Tunbridge Wells in Kent has long been a reliable hunting ground. The town’s Royal status is matched by the quality of its charity shop offerings, particularly on the picturesque Pantiles. The local hospice shop there has developed such a reputation for designer pieces that they now have a separate rail specifically for premium brands.
Edinburgh deserves special mention, particularly the charity shops in Morningside and Stockbridge. These neighborhoods combine old money with academic influence from the university and a strong arts scene, creating a fascinating mix of classic and eccentric donations. The Shelter boutique in Stockbridge is famously well-stocked with designer pieces, while the smaller shops on Morningside Road often have vintage treasures that have emerged from attics in the grand old houses nearby.
University towns generally offer rich pickings, but Oxford stands out even among these. The combination of academic staff (tweed jackets galore), international students (bringing different style influences), and wealthy locals creates an eclectic mix of donations. The shops on Little Clarendon Street and Cowley Road are particularly worth investigating. My most triumphant find there was a 1960s Aquascutum trench coat for £15 that still smelled faintly of pipe tobacco and academia.
For those based in London, the trick is to head to the affluent suburbs rather than the central areas, where charity shops are often picked clean by professionals within hours of anything good hitting the rails. Richmond and Wimbledon are reliable hunting grounds, but my personal favorite is Blackheath Village. Its slightly out-of-the-way location means less competition from resellers, while the demographic of well-off families and creative professionals ensures a steady stream of quality donations.
Certain coastal towns also offer surprisingly good hunting, particularly those with high numbers of second homes and retirees. Southwold in Suffolk has yielded some spectacular knitwear finds over the years—cashmere cardigans and fisherman-style sweaters from quality brands that would cost a fortune new. Similarly, Whitstable in Kent has several excellent charity shops that benefit from the town’s popularity with Londoners who maintain weekend cottages there, regularly clearing out their wardrobes as they transition between city and coast.
Of course, the landscape is always changing. Areas that were once charity shop paradises can become too well-known, attracting professional resellers who arrive at opening time and sweep through with practiced efficiency. Conversely, towns that undergo demographic shifts—becoming more affluent or attractive to certain age groups—can see their charity shop offerings improve dramatically over time.
Timing matters too. January typically brings a wave of quality donations as people clear out after Christmas or attempt Marie Kondo-style new year purges. Similarly, September often sees wardrobes reassessed as the seasons change. University towns see peaks at the end of academic years when students are moving out of accommodation and can’t fit everything into their parents’ cars.
Beyond location, a few tactical approaches can improve your charity shop success rate. Befriending the volunteers who work regularly can provide insider information on delivery days or particularly good batches of donations. Some shops hold back better items for specific days to spread out their premium stock, and the regulars often know these patterns.
Don’t ignore charity shops in apparently unpromising locations either. Some of my best finds have come from nondescript shops in ordinary suburban parades, precisely because they’re overlooked by the more obvious charity shop tourists. My colleague Imani found a perfect Vivienne Westwood Anglomania dress for £12 in a Help the Aged shop on an entirely unremarkable high street in Surrey.
What’s particularly wonderful about charity shopping in Britain compared to vintage shopping in other countries is the cause element—knowing that your fashion treasure hunting is simultaneously supporting important work. I’ve justified many, many purchases over the years with the mantra “it’s for charity,” conveniently ignoring the fact that my wardrobe was already overflowing.
The Jaeger coat from Marlborough, incidentally, has already earned compliments from two fashion editors and my notoriously difficult-to-impress mother. I’ve chosen not to mention its charity shop provenance to her, not because I’m embarrassed—quite the opposite—but because I know she’d immediately want me to take her on a tour of my best hunting grounds. And some secrets are too precious to share, even with family. Although I suppose I’ve just shared them with you, dear reader. Consider it professional generosity. Just don’t all rush to Marlborough at once, please. I’ve got my eye on their bric-a-brac section for some vintage Wedgwood next.
