London's charity shops have found new popularity in a struggling economy, writes Vivienne Hambly. There aren't many places on the British High Street where business is booming.

In London, the UK's economic heart, recently vacated shops are common, and notices of liquidation and closing-down sales stretch from Hackney to Hampstead.

But there remains one retail sector where demand outstrips supply: charity shops. Selling an ever-changing collection of donated clothes and household goods in a fundraising effort, the UK's roughly 7500 charity shops have become a British institution since the first of its kind appeared in Oxford in 1947, when Oxfam was overwhelmed by donations of blankets and clothes and decided to sell them off.

According to a recent statement from Oxfam, now one of the country's leading charities, the shops have seldom been more popular. Well, among shoppers that is - sales are up 5%; donations, unfortunately, declined by 15% last year.

"Over the past 18 months people have been buying less, replacing less and therefore donating less to Oxfam," says Oxfam's director of trading David McCollough.

These days, in some areas of contemporary British society at least, thrift could easily be the new sex. During the past year publishers have released a clutch of titles like India Knight's The Thrift Book: Live Well and Spend Less, Lettice Wilkinson's Charity Shopping and the Thrift Lifestyle and even Kath Kelly's How I Lived a Year on Just a Pound a Day. Craft shops such as Islington's The Make Lounge, which will teach you how to sew your own broekies or, perhaps, fashion dresses from old curtains, are becoming increasingly well supported.

For 25-year-old Emily Stephens, dressed almost head to toe in second-hand clothes, charity shopping is a way of life determined as much by taste as budgetary constraints. "I visit charity shops almost every day on my lunch break - I just pop in to see if there's something really nice," she says. "I can't really afford to shop much elsewhere on the High Street. And I could never afford the quality of clothing I wear if I were to buy it new." She cites a Miu Miu handbag bought for £6 and a pair of Prada shoes, £4, as some of her best finds. "I also have about 10 cashmere jumpers and I don't think I paid more than £10 for any of them," she says.

Alexis Flynn, 30, says visiting the Marie Curie Cancer Care shop on Haverstock Hill, in leafy Belsize Park, has become a weekly event. "The manager has such great style, such a good eye. He really picks out some excellent stuff. I've no compunction about buying clothes from charity shops. None at all."

"I seldom go to mainstream shops nowadays," concurs Stephens. "I go if I need something smart. Or underwear. I always buy my underwear new."

The appeal of charity shopping extends beyond the financial, however, and ties into increased environmental sensitivity. There are ethical considerations, too, particularly for people like Pauline Sritharan, manager of Oxfam Earl's Court.

"I work in a charity shop because I believe in helping the poor - I can go to bed at night saying I've done something. I love it. I really do," says Sritharan.

"I like to know that my money is, ultimately, going to a good cause, and not some executive's bank account."

Perhaps, however, the real appeal of buying clothes from charity shops is the thrill of the chase, that needle-in-haystack chance of finding the perfect piece at a bargain price.

"It becomes quite addictive," says Stephens. "If I don't go for a few days I start to wonder what I'm missing. I get quite a buzz from it.

"I mean, on a good day, for about 20 quid, I can come out with eight to 10 things."

Flynn is more whimsical: "It's like, if you see something there, in your size, and you like it, it's meant to be, isn't it? You were meant to find it."