Easy money: how to make £100 at a car boot sale

Remember when I told you about how I was having a mega clearout of all my clothes, with the intention of eBaying the undesirables to make some extra cash? At the end of said clearout, there was literally a mountain of stuff. Seriously, it filled half my spare room. While I was very sad to see how I had squandered my money on said pile of rags, it did motivate me to a) not do it again, and b) make some money back. And what better way than a car boot!

An old lady tells us she wants to buy my jeans for her daughter but they ‘probably won’t fit her fat arse.’

Car boots are fun! Every year I do a big car boot, and it’s a great way to make some extra cash and clear out a ton of junk in one go. My mum is also a sporadic yet keen car-booter, so last Sunday we got up bright and early to arrive at the car boot for 7am. The day went like this:

7am. Arrive. Moan about where we’ve been placed,  as we are towards the end of the car boot, but not as far back as the poor sods on the very end row, i.e. No Man’s Row.

7.05am. A crowd of people gather by the car, and wait to see what we will unload. These are the die-hard booters, and the ones with the worst manners and the smallest pockets. This is the worst bit of the car boot. If you do a car boot you need to be prepared for this.

Mum starts hissing at me to keep an eye out for thieves.

7.10am. Both Mum and I forget how to put together the clothes rail. The die-hard stand and watch while we get more flustered.

7.15am. Unload the car, and the die-hard booters inch forward. One of them sticks their head in the car and starts rummaging around. I am NOT impressed.

7.20am. I make my first sale of £3. Hurrah!

7.30am. Mum starts hissing at me to ‘watch the stall’ and ‘keep an eye out for thieves’. I patrol the site, and I put my hood up to show I mean business.

7.45am. The booters start to leave so we have a cup of tea from the Thermos flask. It tastes of mud and the field, but Mum says it’s better than no tea at all. It really isn’t.

8am. I sell a horrid canvas of two women on a beach to a very sweet man who is doing a boat-themed bathroom. He then spends ten minutes telling me about his bathroom, and shows me the wooden bird, boat and anchor he has bought. Lovely.

I buy myself something. Mum tells me to stop dressing like my Nan.

9am. It gets quiet, so I have a wander and buy myself a long safari-style waistcoat thing. This may be disastrous or very stylish. Mum tells me to stop dressing like my Nan.

9.30am. ‘How much are these two dresses?’ £4. ‘I’ll give you £1’. Nope, £4. ‘Too much, your loss’. Is it, is it really?

9.45am. Mum tries to sell one of her coats to an old lady wearing a pair of slippers, who says she’s ‘not interested in granny coats.’ Hilar. Same old lady tells us she wants to buy my jeans for her daughter but they ‘probably won’t fit her fat arse.’ I love this woman.

10-11am. The second wind booters arrive. These booters have come for a nice morning out rather than ransacking the stall, and they are much nicer.

11.30am. Pack up the car. Go home. Count my money. £100. THANK YOU very much.

All in all a successful car boot. While it does take some organisation and a lot of patience when you’re there, you meet some interesting characters who will literally buy anything. I sold clothes, homeware, and even old toiletries. And now I have a nice chunk of money to put towards doing up my kitchen, which will of course be another post.