HENRY STREET, Dublin, 8.45am. The footpaths are splodged with massive purple carrier bags, accompanied by the occasional human. Clothing chain Next has been trading since 6am, and it’s big bags or nothing. Outside the Next Children store, a red crash-barrier guides the buggy-thick queue as it snakes on to the street.
An old hand at this sales hype lark, Next has put all its sale items at half price or less. “And they’re good quality,” explains Raisa Gumaniuc, here to buy clothes for her nine-year-old son and two grandchildren.
Up the road, a minor pocket of excitement bulges as a modest crowd gathers for Arnotts’ 9am opening.
“I was working all week and didn’t get the chance to shop,” says Jacinta McNally, from Dundalk but living in Dublin, who arrived at a respectable 8.40am. The doors open and the queue starts to advance. What was she hoping to buy? “Bags,” she smiles.
We cross the threshold to the sound of the Ronettes singing Sleigh Ride. Sure enough, the tills at the ground-floor accessories tables, laid out for Arnotts' "Handbags at Dawn" promotion, are ring, ting, tingling faster than anywhere else.
There’s tumbleweed blowing through the top floor furniture concessions, mind you, but it’s still early, right? And there is, of course, no sale on the Apple iPads. To those who asked, that’s just a stupid question.
There's a panicky 30 seconds where The Irish Timesis lost deep in Arnotts, confused by its many mezzanines. Google Maps is just useless in these situations.
Base camp is provided by the micro-climate that is Topshop. Clothes do look different on National "It Would Be Nice to Get Out of the House" Day. Items bearing even a hint of a snowflake or a dash of Argyle are dead to us now. Sequinned dresses might as well have post-pudding vomit all over them. As for velvet, not even the Downton Abbey's Dowager Countess of Grantham would consider wearing it in spring.
Also seeing their price tags slashed and burned are – how to put this? – the less convincing of the autumn-winter offerings. In Zara, that means Jacquard- pattern ponchos and – despite the style press’s valiant attempt to make them a fashion item for the young – quilted jackets.
O'Connell Street, 11.15am: The Irish Timesdoes two amazing things in Schuh called "buying something we really need" and "Having A Little Sit Down". The sales assistants needlessly apologise for the delay as they take a comforting few minutes to locate the size-five blood-red runners in the storeroom.
11.25am, a quick email check: There’s one from book chain Waterstone’s, now no longer resident in Dublin, to say its sale has started, apparently – thanks for that. Equally ridiculous is the 3.35am email from Groupon, which offers 64 per cent off a one-day public speaking masterclass, unaware that we all communicate in charades now.
Grafton Street, 12.15pm: The Irish Timescan say with absolute certainty that the Brown Thomas sale is going better than last year, when trading was a washout due to flood damage.
In contrast to last year’s weather, it’s 13 degrees and everyone is sweltering in the mild conditions.
Moving swiftly in and out of HMV, 12.30pm: The company recently announced there was “significant doubt” about its “ability to continue as a going concern”. Hmm. This year’s big DVD hit, The Inbetweeners Movie, is still priced at €15.99, which may or may not be a related fact.
Across the street, shoppers forage the five-for-€12 frilly knicker racks in La Senza, the lingerie-seller that says it intends to enter administration in the UK.
It’s a reminder that when Retail Excellence Ireland predicted a “bloodbath” in the new year, it wasn’t talking about the tragic aftermath of frantic shoppers stampeding their way to the white goods or pulling hair at the perfume counter.
And nor was there, somewhat disappointingly, any such fun or frenzy to be found.
