The joy of shoplifting

I was interested to read that police recorded more shoplifting offences in the year ending in March than they have since the introduction of the National Crime Recording Standard in 2003. The trend was unique among other diminishing types of hands-on thieving, single-handedly driving up the number of ‘property crimes’ reported in England and Wales, according to a study published by the Office for National Statistics.

For a blissful moment, I was back in the heady days of Pop Sox and Labour landslides – the light-fingered calf-country of my 1970s provincial working-class girlhood – and as if surprised in adolescent self-abuse, I felt a blush creep up my ears and my heart skip a beat, as I recalled the splendid, sordid thrill of it all.

Shoplifting was what we had instead of sexting. It wasn’t as much fun, obvs; despite what other middle-aged hackettes may harumph about kids sending each other dirty pictures, I think it looks tremendous fun, and often wish I was young enough to indulge.