There are whole tribes across this city who spend their weekends trawling markets, garage sales, opportunity shops, school fetes and the like intent on turning someone else's trash into their latest personal treasure.

I know more about it than most and am just as guilty of the bowerbird collecting habit as anybody around these parts.

I usually plead I am a victim of my time and am at odds with an increasingly throwaway society that has embraced the Wal-Mart principle that you spend a few dollars on something of highly dubious quality that may work once or twice before it gives up the ghost.

When it comes to kitchen utensils and tools, experience has shown me you are much more likely to find quality and durability at a flea market or charity store than if you buy new (unless you are forking out very big money indeed, and even then quality is not guaranteed).

At least that used to be the case. More and more of the cheap junk is creeping into the mix. The genuine pearlers such as exquisitely made Pyrex casserole dishes, the CorningWare tea and coffee pots that were once major statements of affluence, and even the beautifully finished aluminium storage containers, roasting tins, kettles and teapots from the pre-plastic era are harder and harder to find.

On the plus side, bargain hunting is now being embraced by urban Millennials entranced by the prospect of vintage chic, disposable fashion and super-low prices for duds that are generally better made than what are now being sold as new.

Three 20-something Millennials from Watson, Liz and Steph Graham, and their friend, Brie Fitzgerald, pointed this out to me at the St Vincent de Paul monster sale in Mitchell on Sunday, which was to raise money for homelessness services.

They had swung by to raid the clothes racks and see what else they might be able to find.

Prospective purchases included an orange eye of the tiger top, a selection of white trousers (none of which looked like they had ever been worn) and another white top.

Steph, the op shopping veteran of the trio, said it was becoming increasingly cool and trendy for people to post finds on their Facebook status and to list this type of foraging as a favoured activity.

''I guess I've always been cool and trendy; I've been doing this for years,'' she said.

Her favourite purchases include ''weird hats'' (of which Steph says she has many) and shoes. These included the ones she was wearing at the time of our chat.

''They're not a perfect fit but they do look pretty good,'' she said.

Steph's top tip for op shopping novices is to have a mission in mind. On Sunday, for example, the Watson trio were on the hunt for some quality denim - either skirts, pants or jackets.

While you will always get sidetracked, having a specific mission imposes a certain sense of direction on the mission (apparently).

Having promised myself that because I was working (and also because I had just spent a fair chunk of disposable income on an unanticipated car repair) I would not be buying on Sunday, I concentrated on looking for some of the more unusual items on sale.

Heading the list had to be a particularly grotesque doll that deserves its own horror movie, and a startlingly colourful plastic figure depicting a couple in love.

Stuffed toys were 10 a penny (figuratively speaking) and some remarkable artworks were on offer at bargain-basement prices.

The big news, however, was that there was actually a Big Brother board game - Big Brother Uncut. While I can usually work out what may have motivated someone to fork out a little bit of their hard-earned cash to buy this stuff new, that eluded me in this case.

Before I go, I must mention the third reason I was keeping my hands in my pocket and away from my wallet on Sunday; that is because I am saving every spare shekel I can lay my hands on for the creme de la creme of Canberra's bric-a-brac recycling events this Friday, Saturday and Sunday - the annual Lifeline Autumn Bookfair at Exhibition Park.

The queue starts behind me.