I ONCE tried to sell The Edge his own jacket. It's not quite up there with last year's highly public spat between Bono and his stylist over a cowboy hat and some other sartorial gems. This was at the start of the l980s when U2 were on the brink of huge international stardom and I was at the start of a brief and disastrous fling with retail, working in a little art deco type shop called Xanadu in Drury Street which sold clothes now respectfully labelled vintage. Back then, they were secondhand.

But these were not any old cast-offs. The shop was famous for it's eclectic mix of '20s beaded dresses, bias-cut '30s satin gowns, hand-embroidered silk kimonos, ancient fur coats BPC (Before PC), costume jewellery, tuxedos and some collectible household bric-a-brac - affordably priced and unique. Customers were also unique - from the impoverished student to the imaginative fashion stylist, the theatre props buyer to the passing transvestite. And of course, the occasional, burgeoning superstar.

On the Saturday afternoon that The Edge and his then girlfriend Aislinn came in, they were really taken with the golden oldie clothes. There was a bargain basement section stocked mostly with '70s stuff - too recent then to be covetable. All the really sad old clothes were sent here to die (or dye) if they didn't find a good home. Still, it was always worth a look as you might happen on the odd gem among the jumble of fringed suede jackets, voluminous granddad shirts and teeny 26-inch-waist Levis.

In the middle of the floor was an enormous basket with everything going for a quid.

The couple were doing fine, The Edge trying on the odd thing for size. Then I spotted a battered old leather jacket on top of the pile in the reject basket. 'Look at this old thing, it's surely worth a pound?' I said enthusiastically, handing it to him. 'Er, that's my jacket, ' he said.

A quarter of a century on, secondhand fashion stores and charity shops are still doing good business on foot of the trend for vintage. Unfortunately, I can remember wearing what now passes for vintage the first time around. And while, back in the '80s, it would be nice to claim that those of us who regularly browsed the secondhand rails were motivated by eco-awareness, believing that recycling old clothes was a noble pursuit helping to save the planet, the reality was just that you could get together a fairly bohemian, individual look for less than a tenner. Some of those original shops survive, many of which, like U2, began life in the old Dandelion Market on St Stephen's Green.

Jenny Vander is now on Drury Street, while veteran vintage outlets, A Store is Born on Clarendon (open only on Saturdays) and The Harlequin in Castle Market, are still run by their original owners.

The clientele may have got younger, but it seems the demand is there for something old and classy, whether it's to do with budget or finding something unique, a rejection of the uniformity of much of current fashion or a conscientious blow against cheap labour that keeps the chain stores rails filled.

Nowhere is the throwaway society more obvious than with regard to clothes. One charity-shop volunteer we spoke to said that within the last six years or so the amount of donated clothes has tripled. People get rid of things that are perfectly fine, but deemed no longer fashionable. Now cast-offs are becoming sought after without retail intervention.

Clothes swapping may have the ring of the schoolgirls' midnight feast about it, but we spoke to one bunch of young women who regularly get together to exchange the things lingering for too long in their wardrobes - and it doesn't cost a cent. The cheap 'n' cheerful image might sit uneasily with the need to be glamorous and elegant. Yet some of the most unexpected people will only consider secondhand.

Dame Helen Mirren, for example. The Oscar-winning actress recently said she loves charity shops for both personal as well as professional dressing. "I often buy my own costume wardrobe in them because the clothes have a history that helps me get in character. And if I'm away travelling somewhere very hot or cold, I don't take any clothes with me. At the airport, I'll get the taxi driver to take me to the nearest charity shop where I'll buy what I need. When it's time to come home, I take them back to the shop. That way I get the pleasure of wearing a new outfit for only 50p."

Perhaps she also picks up some of those glitzy, red carpet awards gowns there too?

Maybe we should all give the secondhand a second chance. . .

SOPHIE WARD Music student Creating an individual look shouldn't cost the earth. Which is why Sophie gets together with friends for a clothes' exchange that puts a whole new meaning on the term 'freestyle' "We got the idea initially from one of our mums who links up with a bunch of her women friends once a year. They recycle clothes they no longer wear. So we thought we might do something similar. Sounds slightly dull, but there's a real fun aspect to it - especially when some of our fashion mistakes are in the spotlight. We take it in turns to meet up in each other's homes, bringing along any clothes or accessories that we haven't worn in the past year.

"It's more like a party as there's food and someone usually brings along some wine.

Everyone's name goes into a hat, and we take it in turns to pick something from the vast pile of clothes in the middle of the floor.

Still, there's usually quite a bit of stuff left over, so at the end of the night, that's all bundled into a sack and brought to the nearest charity store next day. The big advantage is that it costs nothing. It's also a great way to have a clear-out of your wardrobe - and make room for more stuff.

"If I'm buying retro, I like The Harlequin and Wild Child. For conventional shops, I'd usually go to Topshop or River Island. But I'm not keen on the idea of there being about 60 dresses or skirts all the same walking around, so I'll always try to customise whatever I buy, adding on little bits of lace, changing buttons, pulling things in with ribbon or a belt. Urban Outfitters and Topshop have a revamped 'oldies' range, but you can do the same thing yourself using scraps of fabric, a sewing needle and your imagination. Sometimes I'll have an idea in my head about something I want to wear, but can't find it in the shops. So then I'll try to make it myself. It works out much cheaper. I make jewellery too, often using beads from vintage bags past their best. Looking through back issues of Vogue or other fashion magazines is great for inspiration.

"In the l970s, they had these wonderful print fabrics. And while fashion is all about reviving previous trends, and they can do that quite well now, it's great to see the original '60s' or '70s' piece.

LORNA KENNEDY Sales assistant, The Harlequin Once bought a '60s shift for a fancy dress party - and discovered a passion for secondtime-around fashion "I have an obsession with vintage fashion. It's because it's usually something pretty unique - as opposed to something bought in Penneys. The '60s and '70s is my favourite fashion era - not so much flower power, more the slightly tailored, but pschedelic print look.

I'm a bit of a collector, and would sometimes buy something just because it's so unusual but without ever planning to actually wear it. I would keep an eye on current fashion trends but, to be honest, I don't really follow them. Nor would I have a particular celebrity icon in the magazines whose style I would follow. For example, Kate Moss is very much copied, but the ironic thing about her look is that she's very much an individual - she doesn't follow fashion in her dayto-day style, but somehow then sets a new trend. What people wear on the street, as opposed to what's in magazines, is always more interesting.

"The downside of wanting to wear authentic '60s and '70s dresses is that the very figured shape can be really unforgiving. That's because women back then wore body forming underwear to give a very flat silhouette. So you have to be careful with sizes. I've bought a few vintage size 10s and the waist is tiny - back then, standard sizes were all at least an inch smaller, particularly in the waist. The waistline is slightly higher on older dresses too. Women are much bigger all around now.

"My favourite dress is a white A-line shift with pink psychedelic swirls and a huge bow. It's a really mad looking thing but I just fell for it. I didn't have the nerve to wear it, and just hung it up in the bedroom. Then I wore it to a fancy dress party and everyone loved it and wanted to know where I bought it. So now I wear it a lot - it's really a very feminine shape with a little nipped in waist.

"Women of all ages come into the shop - older ones looking for an authentic cocktail dress, younger shoppers currently into that late-'70s, punky Debbie Harry thing and who buy lurex tops and little bags. Guys coming in at the moment go for military or reefer jackets - and they don't seem to have a problem with sizes.

"We get a lot of bands and performers looking for something unique. There is a consciousness too about recycling. There is so much stuff in the chain stores. People throw things away, whereas years ago, clothes were more tailored and people would try to look after them really well. I wouldn't suggest that someone should dress head to toe in retro but, rather, mix it all up a little.

Style, as opposed to fashion, is about creating your own, individual look. And that's where a little bit of retro can, in a funny way, often look new and interesting.

CARINE LYNCH Interior design lecturer and Oxfam volunteer Sources looks for the vintage section in Oxfam's South Great Georges Street shop "I started work here over 20 years ago when I was 16. It wasn't just the fascination for secondhand clothes, as such. Oxfam was my charity of choice because there was no religious agenda - I liked the simple ethos of helping people help themselves in the third world with land cultivation and clean water.

All very idealistic. But of course I was aware back then about what was happening in Temple Bar with retro fashion stores such as Flip attracting young, fashion-conscious people looking for the cheap, the individual.

I could see students coming into the shop and I knew exactly what they were looking for and I would get a great buzz when I helped them pick out something. The older volunteers didn't get that side of things - for them what was important was that a garment was clean.

"We still have the same shoppers coming in now and who have never lost that attraction for the lucky dip. Finding genuine, original pieces is a passion for some of them, as opposed to just buying from the much more expensive vintage section in Topshop. But it's hard to get genuine vintage now. On the rare occasion, we will get a real gem, an original early 20th century, hand beaded and embroidered dress - the sort of thing even too delicate and lovely to wear, but that you could hang on the outside of your wardrobe and just admire. Sometimes I'll see something truly fabulous that someone else has sorted and put on the rail with a ridiculously low price. And it might be bought by someone who doesn't realise the treasure they've found - and that's always disappointing.

"Even though of course it's a charity shop, I would feel justified in putting a slightly higher price on something that is beautifully made and cared for. I have a passion for design, whether it's something for a room or something that goes on you. In design, the edges are blurred between each discipline.

The 'throwaway' aspect of modern living is very evident in the abundance of clothes now being donated. Some of the things we get are great, maybe something like a really nice coat that's perfect but someone has got rid of just because it's last year's fashion. When I started, donations were not that regular and most of the clothes wouldn't have been in great condition, maybe without buttons, with broken zips and so on. Now, most of the things are perfect. I would be very aware, through interior design, of retro patterns in furnishings. Occasionally we'll get textiles reminiscent of those that Lucienne Day designed for Habitat in the early l960s and I will put them in the vintage section. I have a thing about retro delph and china too - my kitchen looks like one of those American housewife ads from the '50s. In terms of clothes, I'm very much into that late l950s early '60s Audrey Hepburn style, with plainly tailored shift dresses and pencil skirts.

Mind you, someone commented on my retro shirt that I wore the other day. It has a big bow tie at the neckline. "That's a very Margaret Thatcher look, " I was told. Not quite sure that's a good thing. . ."