Pilgrims in search of bargains

To outsiders, the annual ritual of queuing for the sales is a bizarre and inexplicable thing.

What possesses perfectly rational people to rise three hours before dawn, trek into the town centre, stand shivering in a line of fellow humans and make that frenzied, single-minded dash for some must-have bargain which, if experience is any guide, could well be cheaper in a week or so?

Clearly, there is more going on than merely saving money.

This is a post-Christmas ritual on a par with foxhunting or braving the icy waters of the Channel or the Serpentine for a brisk Yuletide swim.

There is a need to be there, to feel part of a great retail moment. Queuing for the sales is the shopper's equivalent of attending the Grand National or the Cup Final.

There may even be a religious undertone. In the queue for bargains, as in the queue for holy sacrament, there is a great sense of communion and a huge act of faith.

There is the unspoken belief that the gods of commerce will recognise our sacrifice, that because we have risen early and suffered in the cold, we will be rewarded with a bargain that passes all understanding.

Verily, those who suffer on earth shall find their reward in Debenhams. Or Next. Or Beatties.

What advice can the rest of us offer these dedicated pilgrims?

The best tip for any bargain hunter is to think ahead. The most blessed of sale shoppers are the ones who know exactly what they want and how much they are saving.

Those foolish virgins who venture into the stores with vague ideas and a fistful of credit cards will spend the rest of the year repaying and repenting.

Enjoy the sales by all means. but to get the most out of them, and to keep your spending in control, remember one little four-letter word. Plan.

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Is Casey's plan a waste of time?

Louise Casey, head of the Government's anti-social behaviour unit, has not had the most glittering of careers.

The so-called "Respect Tsar" lost respect last year in a speech when she joked that some ministers would work better "if they turn up in the morning pi***d."

Since then she has done little to roll back a nationwide tide of disrespect. But today Louise Casey unveils "respect zones," to be created in deprived zones whose councils bid for extra funding.

Cynics will recall the meaningless "nuclear-free zones" of the 1980s created by councils using our money to promote their pacifist politics.

We await the details of Ms Casey's plan with interest but it is a fact that the more pointless, money-wasting, headline-grabbing initiatives we see, the less respect we have for them.