Posts / op-shops
The Voss Bottle at the Salvos, and Other Things That Are Worth More Than You Think
There’s a photo doing the rounds of a Voss water bottle sitting on a Salvos shelf with a $2.50 price tag on it. The comments are split between people laughing at the absurdity and people saying, actually, that’s a pretty decent deal.
I’m in the second camp, and I’ll explain why.
The Voss bottle is, stripped of its branding, a well-made glass bottle with a lid that seals properly. That’s it. That’s the product. Someone at a Salvos, probably a volunteer who’s been on their feet for three hours sorting through other people’s unwanted stuff, looked at it and thought: glass, lid, intact, two-fifty. That’s not a pricing error. That’s someone doing their job with the information available to them.
The joke writes itself, sure. But the laugh fades pretty quickly when you think about it for more than five seconds.
What I find more interesting is how much of the mockery is really about the Voss brand itself. There’s a particular kind of contempt reserved for “poser” products, things people buy or carry to signal something about themselves. Someone in the comments made exactly that point: that most people carrying a refilled Voss bottle are just reusing good packaging. Someone else clapped back that reuse is reuse, and the motivation behind it doesn’t really matter. I think the second person is right. Glass over plastic, lid intact, easy to clean. The little Voss logo is just a sticker at that point.
I’ve bought weirder things at op shops. A set of barely-used cake tins. A fondue set I have used exactly once. A paperback copy of a novel I already owned because it was fifty cents and I wanted one for the beach bag. The Salvos near us has gotten more organised over the years, better categories, actual pricing logic. But it’s still run largely on goodwill and guesswork, and that’s fine. The whole enterprise runs on donated time, donated goods, and the judgement calls of whoever happens to be on shift.
Which brings up the other thread in those comments: the question of who’s actually doing the sorting and pricing. Some volunteers. Some people on work-for-the-dole arrangements. A few doing community service hours. That mix, and the conditions those people are working under, is worth more than a passing mention. The person who priced the Voss bottle at $2.50 might be a retired schoolteacher who loves a good sort-through. They might be someone doing mandated hours for not much more than their base payment. The cheerfulness we project onto op shop volunteers is not always the whole picture.
One commenter mentioned that Moccona jars sell well. This is genuinely true. I’ve watched my wife put three of them in a box for marketplace pickup and they were gone in forty minutes. People use them for pantry storage, for gifting, for the kind of low-key household organisation that doesn’t require buying something new. There’s a whole quiet economy of glass jars and decent containers that op shops tap into, and it works because glass is just better than most of what replaced it.
None of this is a grand statement about anything. A bottle got donated, someone put a price on it, a photo got taken. The internet did its thing. But somewhere in that small loop is something I think is actually worth noticing: that the line between junk and useful object is almost entirely about context, and that the people making those calls in op shops are, mostly, doing a reasonable job with limited information and not enough thanks.
Two-fifty for a glass bottle with a lid. I’d have bought it.