Do ‘Jumble Sales’ still exist today?

Sadly, I fear not.

Nowadays, the word ‘jumble’ infers any goods on offer consist of worthless junk the original owner couldn’t be arsed taking down to the local dump. Nowadays, that ‘useless crap’ has become more treasured. Expressions like ‘vintage,’ ‘pre-loved,’ ‘pre-owned’ and the very loosely-termed ‘nearly new’ give second-hand items an air of respectability.

‘Tat’ has now become ‘nostalgic.’ Or ‘shabby chic.’

Such items are less likely to find their way to the local dump these days.’ The dump’ has been re-imagined as a ‘re-cycling centre,’ for starters. But we now have various businesses accepting boxes of unwanted goods in return for a ‘fair price.’ ‘Vintage Cash Cow,’ ‘and ‘We Buy Books’ and ‘Vinted’ are good examples.

Not only that, the good ol’ Jumble Sale faces competition, and ultimate extinction, thanks also in part to the plethora of High Street charity shops. And of course there are also those infernal plastic bags pushed through our letterboxes with a request for old clothing.

Everyone wants our old stuff now! Kids from local youth organisations looking to supplement their coffers, are reduced to bag-packing at the supermarket. Some simply shake a can in front of consumers going about their weekly shop. (Heck – I’ve even seen some desperate, but enterprising youngsters priming their hand-held card reader in readiness to accept donations by bank card!)

It’s all so far removed for the days back in the ’60s & ’70s, when Jumble Sales were a pretty big deal within the local community. Boy Scouts, Girl Guides, youth sports clubs and the like, all regarded Jumble Sales as prime fundraising events.

Throughout the week prior to the big day, kids would be farmed out around the local streets with the instruction to ask / beg householders for any old jumble they’d be happy to pass on. A group leader would follow in their car and children would fill the boot and back seats with donated books, toys, ornaments, unwanted tools, lamps and other various electrical goods.

It was from the latter category I managed to bag my best Jumble Sale purchase.

Provided we paid a fair price, as agreed by our leaders, we were allowed to ‘bagsie’ items we collected. These would still be displayed at the sale, but with a great big, hand-written ‘SOLD’ sign taped to them.

The most commonly ‘bagsied’ items were toys and board games. Inevitably, the feelings of excitement and triumph at getting your hands on Mouse Trap turned to utter, crushing disappointment when it was later discovered both the diver and washtub / bucket were missing. This of course meant there was nothing to prompt the final act of the cage falling to entrap the wee plastic Indian Chief that was used in substitute for the also missing, toy mouse.

However, I got my hands on this beauty, didn’t I? I’d collected it from its old home, and so had first ‘dibs’ on it. I can’t remember how much I paid for it, but it was well within the budget of my paper-round pay packet.

So … not much!

Result!

It worked, too. Sure, it gave off a bit of an acrid, dusty burning smell, but the dial lit up perfectly and enabled me to pick up the US Forces Network and tune in to Yankees or Red Sox games as they happened. There was something almost romantic about listening to baseball games on such an old radio receiver.

(Manufactured around 1945 / 1946 by E.K. Cole Ltd in Southend-on-Sea, my model is of ‘premium’ nature, and now worth between £500 and £750 in working order. Kerchiiiing! 😉)

This was an exceptional find, of course. But even the more mundane items were well sought after, and a good thirty minutes or so before the official opening, queues would form outside the village / church hall venue. (We like queues, here in the UK!)

It was all very civilised … until the doors opened. Mild-mannered elderly ladies instantly morphed into handbag brandishing monsters and youngsters would squabble over a copy of the Dandy Annual that Santa forgot to deliver the previous Christmas.

(Who, in their right mind, gives away their copy of a Dandy or Beano Annual????)

The general rule was that first to lay their hands on a desired good, got it. However, the law of the jumble is savage. Much-sought-after items would become subject to mini-bidding wars, much to the delight of the sale organisers.

And it’s fair to say a good bit of haggling went on, especially towards the end of the sale, when it was a case of shifting everything that was left, for the best price possible.

There would be home-baking stalls, loaded with donations our mothers had slaved over for a couple of days prior.

That stuck up cow, Mrs Brown, isn’t going to produce the best Victoria Sponge this year! (Now don’t go telling wee Johnny, I said that, mind.)

Coffee and tea would be served at the small trestle tables normally used by Tuesday evening’s Village Bridge Club – be careful you don’t spill your fizzy drink on the card-table top.

There was a lovely, warm ambience about the place on Jumble Sale day. The hall would normally have a fusty, possibly even slightly damp smell to it. This was accentuated with all the sales items that had been dragged down from people’s attics or the dark recess of the understairs cupboard.

This mixed with the aroma of over overly-stewed tea and egg and cress or cucumber sandwiches – yes, we were frightfully posh in our village! And then there was the heat that filtered through the hall from the kitchen area – wonderful on a cold Saturday morning in March, but a nightmare during summer sales.

A cacophony of excited chatter, and the odd ‘heated discussion,’ would fill the air.

Ah, yes. Jumble Sales. I miss them. Just think of the bargains you’d pick up these days with consumers buying expensive goods, looking at them twice, wearing / playing with them once, and then replacing them with the more updated, super-improved, better-than-ever make / model.

There’s much to be said for the services offered by the various online organisations who are delighted to buy your old tat. But I’d suggest there’s more to be said about Jumble Sales.

(About 1,049 words, as it happens.) 😉

(Post by Colin ‘Jackie’ Jackson from Glasgow – June 2026)

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