It is an axiom of the post-Christmas sales that the best buys are the most sensible. This explains why one of the longest queues in Clery's department store in Dublin yesterday morning was in the basement where seasonal decorations could be bought for half price.
Clearly there are a lot of forward planners in Ireland because Christmas wreaths and baubles were being scooped up by the armful both here and in Debenhams, where the same reductions applied.
Elsewhere, the price of Christmas cards and wrapping-paper was slashed by an average of 30 per cent and even 2000 diaries were on sale for 20 per cent less than the original price.
The sales in Dublin yesterday began in a disconcertingly quiet manner. Although the weather was clear and fresh, perfect in fact for strolling around the city centre, few people had chosen this option.
Traffic was lighter than even an average Sunday morning and only a handful of shoppers had chosen to make an early start. At 10.30 a.m., for example, Oasis on Nassau Street had a mere four customers browsing at their leisure through marabou-trimmed cardigans in lilac (were £39.99, now £30) and shocking pink party dresses embroidered with silver thread (reduced from £50 to £30).
Far from being thronged, Dublin looked decidedly unloved. In keeping with this atmosphere of neglect, the Christmas tree at the top of Grafton Street had already taken on a bedraggled appearance, its branches thin and scraggy and many of its lights no longer working; an experienced retailer would have marked down this item to clear.
Dunnes Stores in the St Stephen's Green Shopping Centre was almost bereft of customers, despite carrying a full range of skiwear and even what it describes as "this season's essential" - the pashmina scarf.
In Habitat, two women subsided onto a capacious red velvet sofa but then got up again when they discovered it was not included in the sale. Everywhere, it was possible to amble around without bumping into anyone else and then pay at once without having to stand in line.
Everywhere, that is, until the unsuspecting customer arrived at Next on Grafton Street. When it opened its doors at 6 a.m., according to manager Ken Thornton, 130 people were already waiting to be admitted. The numbers scarcely seem to have dropped from then on and with them came the more traditional features of the sales.
Among the best known are: disordered ranks of merchandise on which staff constantly but vainly attempt to put order; the long queues of overheated shoppers jostling to pay for their goods; the baby buggy over which at least one unsuspecting person will fall, and the general sense of panic seizing everyone who manages to enter the premises.
The last of these was embodied in a woman shouting into her mobile: "The men's sweaters here are half price, so I'm buying a couple for myself." Next set the tone. Thereafter, the sales took on their familiar character. In Brown Thomas, word went around of a messy battle in one of the changing rooms as two would-be purchasers competed for possession of a dress.
In BT2, a teenager firmly released a pair of Prada Sport boots from his father's grip with the comment, "Dad, you're too old for those." At Dixons in the Jervis Centre, a teenage couple proceeded to row noisily over where they should go next - what chance that romance surviving until the new year?
These are the sales any experienced shopper knows and loathes. The empty streets of the early morning were merely the calm before the storm.