Stay up to date with notifications from The Independent

Notifications can be managed in browser preferences.

Cash is king, except in Kingston

Topaz Amoore
Monday 17 August 1992 23:02 BST
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

IN THEORY, cash is king in the recession. March down to your beleaguered local shopping centre, pocket bulging with tenners, and watch them wilt as you name your price.

In practice, it doesn't quite work. Down on the average high street, lurid sales signs, apparently open-ended promotions, interest-free credit and 'lowest-price-in-town' promises abound. Discounts for cash are few and far between.

In Kingston, Surrey, prices have already beeen pared to the bone, sometimes by up to 40 per cent, and I found few shops prepared to go any further for cash.

In Bentalls, the local department store, there was no joy when I offered to pay on the nail to reduce the cost of furniture, a television or video.

'Our sale has finished. No, we do not discount for a cash buyer, although we do have a 'lowest price' guarantee,' the assistant said. This guarantee, however, did not cover video recorders sold in Tottenham Court Road, London's bazaar-like centre for electrical consumer goods. 'Madam] They are pirates. We are retailers.'

At Habitat a man paid for an expensive sofa - 'selling like hot cakes, Sir' - with a tall stack of pounds 20 notes. I sensed, accurately, that there was no hope of a cash discount. It was the same story down at Argos. Design Fireplaces escaped the question only because it appeared to have closed down.

There was greater success at Perring, a furniture store, where the sale had already taken 10 or 15 per cent off prices. I was offered a further 10 per cent off any item for cash. After the end of the sale there would still be some bargains, 'but nothing as generous as 10 per cent,' the assistant said. 'Look at it this way. August is usually the slowest month for retailing unless you're selling ice cream.'

The sale would be ending after the August Bank Holiday, he warned. 'Mind you, there'll be the autumn promotion after that. . .'

But the best August discounts I found were at CH Furniture, where 25 per cent had already come off sofas, tables and armchairs. One small armchair that cost pounds 660 originally came down to pounds 510 in the sale, and was offered to me for pounds 460 for cash. 'Prices,' the salesman said, 'are always open to negotiation.'

(Photograph omitted)

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in