Our charity shops are so fabulous it's hard to believe they barely exist in some countries – Susan Morrison

A paleoanthropologist (yes, that's a thing. It's someone who studies caveman behaviour. There's a lot of guesswork involved. Not big on leaving written records, yer Neanderthals) once told me that he thought women were such inveterate bargain hunters because they had evolved from our early hunter-gatherer ancestors to forage for the good non-poisonous nuts and berries.

You can see his point in TK Maxx. Women, usually in packs, carefully pick through the rails seeking that one great top. You can tell when she finds it. She raises it above her head like Arthur flourishing Excalibur. Around her, the rest of the tribe will hoot with approval, although there might well be a dissenting voice muttering about perhaps trying to find it in a bigger size.

I suggested to him that this caveman past would also explain why men, particularly older married Yorkshiremen, have a habit of standing outside shops. It could be an echo from a distant Cro Magnon past, when the men took up guard positions to protect the berry-picking ladies of the tribe against that inevitable sabre-toothed tiger attack.

He said, possibly, or it could be that the modern men were bored rigid by shopping and preferred to stand outside. Particularly older Yorkshiremen who happen to be married to me.

For many women, shopping is hunting and there is nothing like the thrill of the chase, and there is no better hunting ground than the charity shop. It’s a true test of skill, for there is no next size up, no other colour and you have to be sure it really does match what’s already at home. Is this a bargain, or bad-berry poison for your wardrobe?

We live in a lush landscape for the hunter, which is only reasonable, since one of the earliest charity shops opened in this city. In 1937, up on Nicholson Street, the Edinburgh University Settlement set up “Everybody's Thrift Shop”. It was an instant hit, according to The Scotsman. Women queued for nearly an hour to get in, paid their tuppence and stormed the clothing stall. One woman made off with a suit rumoured to have been worn by a university professor.

The Oxfams, the Cat Rescues and the British Heart Foundations have all moved on since 1937, as have the Cancer Research UK shops. Naturally, these are my favourites, since every cardi bought could bring a cure closer. Sometimes bargain hunting can be personal.

Charity shops are so fabulous I thought they were everywhere. Not so. Some parts of the world have barely any. A charming young Ukrainian woman sitting down at The Shore wanted to practise her English. She thought talking to me would help. There’s optimism for you.

Charity shops have been a feature of life in the UK for generations (Picture: Evening Standard/Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

She told me she loved our wide choice of charity shops. They were brilliant, she said, pointing out the gorgeous little dress her equally gorgeous little girl was twirling around in. She told me the price. We both gave that nod-with-pursed-lip of the appreciative bargain hunter.

When she goes back, she’s going to see how to set them up. She sounded determined. I told her I’d come and bag a bargain. She said I’d be welcome and she smiled, but there was a steely glint in her eye that should keep Putin awake at night.

Bet that girl gets home.