Alfie Packham 

‘The teapot rattled – there were dentures inside!’ Readers on their most eerie, excellent charity shop finds

When a British fashion designer was reunited with her dress 40 years after it went missing, we asked for your best, most surprising discoveries
  
  

A pair of dentures
Not what you want to find inside your teapot. Photograph: Stocksnapper/Alamy

‘The worst was a donation of ashes in a teapot’

The charity shop I work in is in my village, and I began volunteering there to get some experience for my CV. The best thing that has ever been donated was a Chanel bag, which we sold on eBay for slightly less than £1,000. But the best item I have ever bought for myself was, without a doubt, a vodka decanter in the shape of a rooster. It’s just so cool! I’ve never seen anything similar and it’s in such good condition.

I keep a list of strange donations on my phone. For a while, a stranger kept leaving brown paper bags filled with courgettes outside our back door. We had someone’s collection of ceramic ducks (139 in total), a hollowed-out emu egg, a taxidermied mouse, a briefcase with money, and two plastic bags filled with matches.

A close second favourite of mine is a Tiffany-style lamp in the shape of a tortoise. Whoever owned these things before me has taken fantastic care of them.

The two worst donations? During a balmy June I unearthed a pint of milk that looked ready to pop, but first place goes to a donation of ashes. They were kept, for some reason, in a decorative teapot. Eve, 25, Cambridgeshire

‘He’d bought my book before we met’

In about 2011, I had finished a degree in English literature and had started training as a midwife. I went through all the books I had accumulated over three years of my literature degree, and I gave a lot to my local Cancer Research charity shop where my mum was a longtime volunteer. It included a copy of The Plague by Albert Camus. In 2013, I got together with the man who would later become my husband. In the heady early days of dating, I started leaving little notes for him on his car or on his doorstep for him to find.

I got a message one night saying: “I think I’ve found something amazing.” It transpired he had seen my writing before; some years before we met, he had bought a copy of Camus’s The Plague from the same charity shop. It was full of scribbles in the margins and he had noticed that the letters y and s had very pronounced curls. It wasn’t until I left him the notes that he realised he had bought my book. We felt like it was this amazing connection between us before we’d even met each other. We’ve been together 11 years now and have two children, and the book I gave away in 2011 is a very precious possession. Sian Gossa, 35, London

‘My jaw dropped’

My first fabulous charity shop find was in about 2002, when I was a student. It is an exquisite original Pat Albeck tin from the 1970s that was priced at an amazing 50p! I have since become a collector of her work; tins, fabric and more. I have never come across an example of this design anywhere else. It is my most prized possession, proudly displayed on my kitchen wall.

My second best find is a picture I used to have hanging on my bedroom wall as a child. It was given away to charity, probably in Peterborough. Then one day, purely by chance, I was walking through Northampton hospital and there it was in the window of the hospital charity shop. My jaw dropped and I instantly bought it. It now has pride of place on my daughters’ bedroom wall. I am sure it is the exact one I used to own because it has been professionally framed and I recognise the colour of the card mount and the frame. I think the chances of two people choosing to frame the print in the same way are slim. Charlie, 46, East Midlands

‘I started wondering about the rattling sound’

About 15 years ago I was after a birthday present for my mum. She collects tea and coffee pots, so charity shops are a great place to look. I found one of these one cup-plus-pot stacked combos. I paid for it and took it home, where I started wondering about the rattling sound coming from inside the pot. Turns out it was dentures. Needless to say I gave it to her without the dentures. My mum loves to tell that story to everyone. Anja, Bristol

‘I opened the book – and there was my dad’

About seven years ago I was volunteering in the Oxfam bookshop in Exeter. I saw a book about the Arctic convoys waiting to be sorted. My dad was on the Arctic convoys in the second world war, but he wouldn’t talk about it. I knew his ship was the Northern Gem, so I looked in the index to see if there were any entries for that ship, and there were. In the book there was a picture of the Northern Gem that I had never seen – and there was my dad! I could so easily have missed it. Someone could have priced it and put it out to sell and I might never have seen it. Of course, I had to buy the book. Jane Thurnell-Read, 76, Exminster, Devon

‘I noticed an old picture frame among all the modern ones’

While browsing in a Southampton charity shop, I noticed an old picture frame among all the modern ones in a box. The oil-on-board painting showed a Scottish harbour with herring boats, herring girls and fishermen on the quayside, and was signed D Martin. It was only £4.50 so I bought it, took it home and hung it on my wall, vowing to take it to Scotland whenever my next visit would be. I was always intrigued about it, so when I heard the Antiques Roadshow was being held in Salisbury five years ago, I took it along for valuation. I didn’t make it on to TV, but I was introduced to Frances Christie, who told me D Martin was not a well-known Scottish artist, but valued the picture at £500. I was ecstatic and a few weeks later travelled down to Lymington auction rooms to place it in their next sale. Unfortunately, the reserve was not met, so I retrieved the painting and put it back on my wall.

Four years later, I sold the painting for £200 at Great Western Auctions in Glasgow. Although this was a lot less than the valuation, I was happy with the price. I just hope the painting went home to a Scottish collector. Sandra Kimber, 61, Southampton

 

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