Katie Trotter: Take stock at the sales

A pair of Vivienne Westwood ankle boots in the softest of suede. A red dress with a missing belt from Zara. Dh284 worth of finger food, a duck down duvet (a must for desert living,) a Puerto Rican recipe book, an iPhone 4, a Topshop jacket (coral pink and maybe a bit sensational). A grey jumper, a neon pink pasta drainer and a Smythson 2011/12 personal organiser (for those who know me, this is laughable). These, my friends, are the items positively smirking at me from my credit card bill from the last two days.

On any other week of the year I'd have no idea how much of my hard-earned cash I squander on frivolous, unnecessary stuff. But this time, for the sake of you dear readers, I checked my online bank statements (something I normally avoid) - and I'm horrified!

It's sale time again and - let's be honest about it - we're all at it, so here are a few pointers. First, be prepared for battle. Get some rest the night before as you will need to be on high alert; the eye of a sale shopper must be the eye of a falcon. And watch your talons, try to remain rational. Do you really need that shearling coat, or is it only because you'd get one up on that dreadful mirror-hogging woman who's been annoying you all morning?

When it comes to what to look for, the sales are the best time to stock up on the basics - T-shirts, white shirts, vests, that kind of thing. But that's not to say buy three of each of them because they are cheap.

Moreover, buy your showpieces, your big, fun, far-too-costly-to-tell-anyone-the-price pieces.

Search for investment pieces, ones that won't go out of trend quickly. Leather, for example, is a good place to start as bags and shoes can be marked down to as much as 80 per cent and will last many seasons.

It's pointless for me to tell you not to do it, to bypass consumerism, to feel nothing but pity for the poor sods flashing their cash in Harvey Nichols. Because that would be unethical, I would sound like one of those terrible preachers on American television who promise to heal untreatable diseases on the stage. It would be a farce.

Truly, I love the naughtiness of the sales, the bleep of the scanner, the kerchinging of the cash register. Oh how impossible to resist! I adore those pompous little price tags slashed in half screaming "Buy me, buy me, do it quick, before someone else faster and smarter than you nabs me!"

So while I can't promise that the thrill of the purchase will last any longer than an IKEA candle, enjoy it while it does. Close your ears, swoosh the credit card and deal with it tomorrow.