IT’S sales time again – another chance to make your money go further and take advantage of all those tempting ‘unrepeatable’ offers.

Round about Christmas time it was hard to avoid all the posters offering staggering reductions – 70% off in many cases – set against a relentless chorus of businesses going to the wall and predictions of total famine for manufacture and retail.

Soon afterwards, the ‘new season’ goods arrived. But did you notice how, particularly in the fashion clothing and accessory shops, prices rocketed? Now, I’ve nothing against people making a crust, especially in the current climate, when the ability to sell anything at all merits a mention in the financial sections of the media, but I do reckon I’ve spotted a trend which at best represents opportunism and at worst borders on exploitation.

It’s difficult not to conclude that items, notably at the luxury end of the market, are now being priced artificially high for two reasons. One, to capitalise on the appeal to those chavs who still retain wads of consumer power and taste deprivation who will buy anything just because it’s new and others don’t have it; two, to act as a buffer, so come the next sales round, when once again there’ll be the expectation of huge discounts at the tills, a drop of up to 70% will still provide an acceptable profit to the retailer and leave the customer feeling he or she has struck a bargain.

Too cynical? Well you can’t blame them for trying, and while money is still in circulation it prevents even more companies from going into administration – which has to be good for value us all, doesn’t it?

Cost and value are, after all, highly subjective. This can certainly play into the hands of the unscrupulous, be it the pub which because it has ‘pop-star’ owners feels it can charge gullible tourists way more than savvy locals; or perfume manufacturers whose product price reflects more the cost of seductive marketing and elaborate packaging.

But who knows whether in fact the punters actually value the expensive ale and pies more because they are served in surroundings with a ‘celeb’ connection? Or does your drop of Eau de Bellozanne smell the sweeter for being dressed up in special gift wrapping?

I can give you a list of London restaurants which serve mediocre food, scandalously over-priced wine and disservice to die for, which even in credit-crunch days are crammed with punters anxious to be force-fed and insulted, just to be seen dining there. Whereas but a step away, scrumptious menus are on offer for a fraction of the price. It so depends on what you’re looking for and what you hold in greater esteem.

What value, for example, would you put on a 6×2 metre patch of Brighton tarmac? Described as ‘a rare opportunity to buy’, this slice of real estate was offered with security patrol and collapsing bollard. A snitch at £27,500!

Now, there are many places in the UK where this would buy you a comfortable three-bedroom home, but no – your very own personal designated parking bay!
But again, it depends on the value a purchaser chooses to put on it. The cost may in fact be less a consideration than the availability. It almost makes the £80 million price tag for a testosterone-supercharged footballer seem like a bargain!

Stray into arguments about value for money, though, and you’re on sticky ground. The refusal by the absurdly mis-named National Institute for Clinical Excellence to supply life-prolonging drugs to kidney cancer patients on such grounds must smack as one of the most obscene judgments of the new century.

Would it be inconceivable also to deny rescue to an injured lone yachtsman in the South Atlantic or an elderly, seriously ill patient on the isolated Isle of Bute on the grounds of cost and effort?

We certainly live on an expensive little rock – that is, if ever you want to leave it. So it’s not surprising that there’s a pressure cooker hissing below the local cost of fares both in the air and on the water. Seductive offers by operators who plunge into the pool on a raft of ‘competition’ during high season can leave us stranded when times are rough.

The cost of cheap summer travel could very well be the value of maintaining a year-round service. So there’s a price to be paid. And free lunches are hard to come by at street level, too. Not a Tessa Sanderson’s javelin throw from the site of the new incinerator, the purveyor of al-fresco seaside ‘toasties’ affirms his product is so ‘hot’ because he uses only the best mature cheddar cheese: ‘Costs a bit more, but there’s no comparison with ordinary caterers’ stuff.’ So you get what you pay for, right?

Now I’m no eco-warrior, but it’s difficult to ignore an environmental analogy. The plants are blooming earlier, but until recently, before the invasion of the Moroccan ‘painted ladies’, you could reasonably ask: how many native butterflies or bees or have we seen this year? Where have all the swifts, swallows and house martins gone?

As we spread more insecticides to boost output and cut the cost of food production, build cheap houses on green-field sites, or grub out hedgerows and tear up our gardens for decking in order to provide low-maintenance living, the value of nature’s life-cycle is on the decline.

Some would argue that the natural sustainability of the planet is under threat. It’s hard not to conclude that often the things that offer us the greatest value are actually those which are literally priceless.