On the bargain road to shoes and ruin

Of course I know, as a seasoned sales shopper, that what I'm looking for probably doesn't exist. That magical combination of the unusual, the desirable and the extremely affordable is rare at the best of times, and this year the frantic sales mentality is more illusory than ever. We keep being told that retailers are more desperate than ever to shift stock, creating impossibly high expectations of low prices.

At Westfield, just before Christmas, I bought one or two things that had been marked down early and came away quite happy. I went back when the sales had officially started and left empty-handed; the dedicated sales shopper isn't tempted by a half-price jacket from Next or three pairs of tights for the price of two. I want a sense of achievement, something I wouldn't normally dream of buying, from a designer I couldn't normally afford.

It also has to have been overlooked by everyone else, which is why I find myself rummaging through racks of strange garments in distant corners of upmarket stores.

No one seems to have spotted these belts, all under £10 - or perhaps everyone else has realised that they're kitsch at any price. What about that balconette bra trimmed with feathers? I'm sure I could wear it on all sorts of occasions, none of which quite comes to mind.

Occasionally the fantasy object of desire does actually turn up. I once found a Vivienne Westwood skirt that was such a peculiar shape that no one in the shop knew how to put it on, and the assistant had to phone a friend for advice. But it was less than half price, and it's much admired whenever I struggle into it.

This year, my local Oxfam shop has slashed its prices, and I got a pair of Dolce & Gabbana slingbacks knocked down to £35 on Christmas Eve. But I'm still in the market for something from the winter sales to wear with them, preferably with those magic words on the label - 70 per cent off.