When you imagine a shoplifter who do you see? A young scruffy male maybe? Or someone who looks shifty and jittery, obviously up to no good?
But that’s exactly why I’ve got away with being light-fingered for the past five years — I couldn’t look less like most people’s idea of a thief.
At 54, I’m middle aged, well-groomed, beautifully dressed and nicely spoken.
Nobody suspects that when I fill my basket with delicious food in upmarket stores, I do not intend to pay for every item.
Take last week, when I was in Marks & Spencer putting a mixture of groceries and clothing through the self-service checkout and I sneaked a pair of pyjamas and a bottle of wine into my shopping bag without scanning them. A little frisson of adrenaline coursed through me; I love that ‘on edge’ feeling.
There’s no regularity to my little habit. Sometimes I’ll shoplift a couple of times a week, mostly on a whim when I get to the till
The security manager at health food shop Planet Organic claimed the brand loses a staggering £900,000 a year across its nine stores in London because of theft
I bagged up my shopping, paid for the other items, and slowly left the store, pausing to browse on my way out and smiling at staff. Then I was out and free.
Only a few days later I was in Waitrose in a pretty market town and pilfering some lovely cold meats and a steak at a self-service checkout. It gives me quite the buzz.
There’s no regularity to my little habit. Sometimes I’ll shoplift a couple of times a week, mostly on a whim when I get to the till. But, equally, I can go months without feeling the urge to steal.
However, if you think I’m a one-off, a menopausal woman gone rogue, think again.
Recently, the security manager at health food shop Planet Organic claimed the brand loses a staggering £900,000 a year across its nine stores in London due to theft — and that his own supermarket in Chiswick is besieged by ‘posh totty’ shoplifters. They shop there regularly so think they’re ‘entitled’ to take something every now and then, given how much money they usually spend, he explained.
The theory resonates with me. I justify my actions by convincing myself that the middle-class stores I steal from have made thousands from me over the years, that they make millions in profits and by using a self-service checkout I’m saving them money because I’m doing a cashier’s job. Plus, it gives me more of a thrill to steal from nicer places.
I’m clearly not the only one, as shoplifting has risen to the highest level on record amid complaints the crime has been effectively ‘decriminalised’ according to data released earlier this year.
A total of 430,104 offences were recorded by police in the year to December 2023, up by more than a third from the previous 12 months — the highest since records began, according to the Office for National Statistics.
Statistics from the British Retail Consortium last September revealed shop thefts have more than doubled since 2020, with shoplifting costing retailers nearly £1 billion in 2021-22.
Put like that it makes sobering reading, and the cost of living crisis has clearly been a factor.
But why do I steal when, in my case, there’s no financial need?
My husband and I sold off a portfolio of properties here and abroad to provide us with a hefty pension pot, we have long since paid off the mortgage on our four-bedroom home, and our children have flown the nest. We have plenty of disposable cash. Partly, I blame my guilty pleasure on the menopause.
I’d never have dreamed of pilfering so much as a sweet from a pick ‘n’ mix until my hormones went haywire in my late 40s. In fact, I’d never been a rule breaker before then.
And my first foray into shoplifting was almost by accident. Frustrated that a steak refused to scan and there wasn’t an assistant to help, I just stuffed it into the bag with my other shopping.
If the store couldn’t be bothered to label it correctly or have enough staff on shift, then I reasoned they clearly didn’t care very much about their stock.
Back home, I immediately confessed what I’d done to my husband, who was aghast. He told me I must never do such a thing again and although I nodded and made the right noises, secretly it had given me a thrill. I had a hunch I’d be doing it again.
I was right. A few months later I was doing the weekly food shop and suddenly had the urge to pop a wedge of cheese, pasta and toiletries into my bag without actually beeping them through.
As I left the checkout area, I even smiled and said ‘thank you’ to the employee on duty.
Being pleasant to staff and never dashing out of a store with my loot are my modus operandi, the perfect way not to raise suspicion of my criminal activity.
I’ve watched when a shoplifter attempts to run from a supermarket with staff giving chase, whereas I leave as though I don’t have a care in the world (or stolen goods in my bag).
Wearing the ‘invisibility cloak’ of being in my 50s helps facilitate my crimes. When I hit that milestone birthday I felt as though I suddenly vanished from sight.
I no longer got compliments, and there were no more smiles from strangers or security guards in shops. Staff ignored me.
So walking away from a store knowing there are stolen items among my paid-for shopping makes me feel powerful, like I’m tricking all those people who don’t so much as look at me these days.
Although once or twice I’ve hidden items beneath an oversized ‘bag for life’ in my trolley as I’ve pushed it around, most of my pilfering is committed at the self-service checkouts, which are a shoplifter’s dream.
In fact, had these checkouts never been introduced I wouldn’t be shoplifting, as the risk of getting caught would be far too great.
Though I’m certainly not a career criminal, it seems getting older has stopped me caring about what’s right and wrong, only what’s right for me!
And why shouldn’t I? I’m not doing anyone any harm. Nor would I ever steal from a small or independently owned store.
I confess that I have stolen from charity shops in the past, rings and bracelets that can easily be slipped on my finger or wrist, but then felt so guilty I made cash donations to the relevant charities online.
Shoplifting has become my release during a stressful period of life where I’m run ragged helping care for an elderly relative who lives close by while supporting my children as they set up their own homes and build their careers. I’m also struggling with debilitating menopause symptoms.
There are days I feel I’m spinning endlessly in the midst of a hurricane and shoplifting has become my little escape.
I love the thrill every time I realise I’ve got away with it. I imagine once my hormones have settled down and life doesn’t feel quite so fraught that I won’t feel the need to shoplift any more.
In general I’m a bit of an open book, when it comes to sharing with friends and family, but my shoplifting habit is one thing I’m tight-lipped about because my loved ones would be absolutely horrified. Then again, for all I know, some of them may be secretly shoplifting too.
How do I feel about getting caught and the possibility of ending up in court with a criminal conviction?
I’d be absolutely mortified for it to be made public; I’d worry terribly what people thought of me and how on earth I’d explain it to my husband and children.
But my excuses are ready should I ever feel the heavy hand of a security guard on my shoulder.
‘Stolen? Oh, my goodness, I’d never do that intentionally!
‘I’m very sorry, I’ve got so much going on in my head right now, I’ll go and pay for the items immediately.’
Well, at least part of that is true.
But the truth is, people pay so little notice to me now, I don’t think I will ever get caught.
As told to Sadie Nicholas