Recession clubs are the way to go, says ISABEL MORTON

I WAS CHATTERING on to someone recently about how nice my book club “girls” were and how it was my turn this month, although my friend Anne M had even offered to host it instead, if necessary, as she knew I was up to my eyes between one thing and the other this December.

When asked what book we were reading this month, I admitted that, not only did I not even know, but that I didn’t think I had ever even bought, let alone read, any of my book club books.

Horrified at the notion of attending a book club, just as an excuse to meet for a laugh and a chat, she informed me of her book club, which she was invited to join by a like-minded colleague from her office and that there were no “hosts” and no meals being served because they met in a neutral venue and only served coffee or tea and perhaps a biscuit, when they took their 15-minute break.

Someone else joined in on the tail end of this conversation and sent my earnest companion into a complete spin, by informing us that last month her book club met up in the south of France and that this month it would be in Brighton, less than an hour on the train from London, which was great, as they were all planning on doing a bit of Christmas shopping.

Yes, apparently, really good book clubs have monthly meetings in various different venues. (When I say venues, I actually mean locations and when I say locations, I actually mean far-flung international destinations.)

It made my diary look very parochial. Our book club stretches from Dublin 6 to Co Wicklow and we all feel that we’re covering the entire east coast of Ireland.

It was, we were told, great fun, as so many people had holiday homes in Spain, France and Portugal or apartments in interesting cities such as Prague, Paris and London.

And, with off-season flights and not having to pay for accommodation, they could enjoy weekends away, with sightseeing and shopping and sometimes a round of golf and, of course, their book club meeting.

Apparently, I would love it, she told me with an exaggerated wink, as I would get to see so many people’s holiday homes and some of them were “simply amazing”.

The following day, I was telling someone else about the travelling book club and how some Irish people weren’t giving up entirely on their Celtic Tiger lifestyles when I was told about the new recession clubs, where women swapped money-saving tips, as well as maternity and baby clothes, cots, buggies and books, and indeed anything else they had, plus they helped each other out by contributing to a small pool of cash, which was there if someone badly needed a little loan to get them through a difficult patch.

This little recession-busting club came about by accident when a group of school mums, living in the same estate, met to sort out the school runs and one complained that she would love to decorate her young daughter’s bedroom but didn’t have the money.

So they had a “painting party”, got it done and “girlie” items such as a pair of curtains, bed linen and decorative bits and pieces were donated by the other women in the group.

Gradually, they started to do more of it and soon, they were swapping household items (made easier by the fact that they all lives in similar houses), redecorating each other’s homes and trading services such as babysitting, cooking, gardening and so on.

The more I thought about it later, the more I wondered why more of us didn’t join forces

in this way, not just to help

each other out, but to make

life a little less lonely, particularly for those who are now going through very difficult times.

The days of borrowing a bowl of sugar over the garden wall were wiped out with the Celtic Tiger as we became isolated from each other in our ivory towers and no longer appeared to have problems to share.

We joke now, about how Tiger homes became showhouses, decorated to be viewed rather than lived-in, and how competitive many became about their material possessions.

But the sad reality is that some families, while still just about managing to live in their beautifully decorated homes, can no longer afford to heat them, let alone maintain them.

Time perhaps, when next asked how you are, to be honest and tell it like it is.

And time also for us to listen to what we are being told and offer some practical help. It is after all, the time for giving.

Isabel Morton is a property consultant