Tonight:
5°c
My name is Liz and I'm a fool. Even in a global recession, I still pay full-price. While my friends say: "I won't get out of bed for less than 40 per cent off", I'm too uptight, too snobbish, to ask for a discount. I can't even barter on holiday. But yesterday - super Thursday, as it's being dubbed - the high street went into meltdown. Some of the biggest retailers cut prices by 50 per cent to lure shoppers. And Woolworths announced a half-price closing down sale.
So can consumers really name their price now? I spent the day in west London trying to find out. From major department stores to one-off boutiques and markets, the idea was to see how much discount I could get on top of the half-price bonanza.
It was my idea of hell. People looked at me with barely concealed loathing. One bookshop escorted me to the door. And, trust me, it can take forever - as sales staff ring area managers to get permission. At first I was far too apologetic but eventually something fires in the blood. "Come on," you think. "The shop is empty. We can make a deal."
Discount Britain is the big news story. In Woolworths I bumped into a Sunday Times journalist, plus a TV crew. Yes, I ended the day feeling like the most hated woman in London. But I also learned valuable rules about the ancient art of haggling. I spent £597 and saved £171.
Go independent. Two out of three shops on Portobello Road agreed to discount. I got £10 off two glass necklaces and £8 off two framed textiles. But staff at the high-street chains - from M&S to Waterstones and House of Fraser - simply aren't allowed to reduce prices, or throw in a gift item.
Call in loyalty. Having bought two full-price dresses in LK Bennett recently, now was the time to be top-bitch. An orange dress I'd lusted after was £149 (down from £199). Sadly, the staff politely explained they couldn't discount further. I went away with an offer of a VIP evening with mince pies. Tragic. But at my other favourite shop, Flow, on Needham Road, Yvonna is Polish and understands the art of the deal. "Great idea. Spend more than £100 and I can offer customers a free hand-felted brooch or ring worth £35-£50," she promised.
Get there before the receivers. Woolworths was extraordinary. DVDs for £2; CDs, £1. But you need stamina to get near a till to ask for bulk discount. I collapsed after queuing for an hour.
Look for "invisible flaws". At House of Fraser, a pink and black Fenn Wright and Mason shift dress was half-price at £70. Examining it minutely I found a "design fault": the pockets had been sewn up. Result: a further 10 per cent off.
Establish intimacy. Don't start off aggressively with: "I want £20 off." Tell your story, smile and build up a relationship. "Isn't this nice, pity I can't afford it". That gives the manager a place to negotiate from. I got a long freshwater pearl necklace reduced from £111 to £95 at Black Pearl on Portobello Road (I've paid £140 in a department store).
Lurk around promotions. the main shops at Westfield simply wouldn't discount. But Corioliss were doing a demonstration on haircare products in the main arcade. Having confessed to being rubbish at blow drying, I got £10 off a baby set of hair straighteners. And at Lea and Sandman on Kensington Church Street, I saved more than £100 on a crate of Ruinart champagne for a mythical party I invented. After a day's sheer humiliation, I could have drunk the lot.
Reader views (2)
Wow, I dont spend that in a year! I also believed that pockets had a running stitch in them so that they kept there shape on hangers, surprises me how many people dont know that,must try that one myself!
- Ned, staffs, 12/12/2008 22:41
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Liz, I wish I could spend that kind of money in a day!
- Janice, London, 12/12/2008 19:08
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