Home Life Style I’m addicted to shoplifting… and there’s one thing about me that makes it so I never get caught.

I’m addicted to shoplifting… and there’s one thing about me that makes it so I never get caught.

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There is no regularity to my little habit. I shoplift a couple of times a week sometimes, usually on a whim when I get to the checkout.

When you picture a shoplifter, who do you see? Perhaps a scruffy young man? Or someone suspicious-looking and nervous, obviously up to no good?

But that’s exactly why I’ve been able to get away with it lightly for the past five years: I couldn’t be less like most people’s idea of ​​a thief.

At 54, I am a middle-aged person, well-groomed, beautifully dressed and pleasant to speak.

No one suspects that when I fill my basket with delicious food from luxury stores, I have no intention of paying for each item.

Last week, when I was in Marks & Spencer putting a mix of groceries and clothes through the self-service checkout, I stuffed a pair of pyjamas and a bottle of wine into my shopping bag without putting them through the scanner. I felt a little thrill of adrenaline – I love that feeling of nervousness.

There is no regularity to my little habit. I shoplift a couple of times a week sometimes, usually on a whim when I get to the checkout.

The security director of health food retailer Planet Organic has claimed the brand loses a staggering £900,000 a year across its nine London stores due to theft.

The security director of health food retailer Planet Organic has claimed the brand loses a staggering £900,000 a year across its nine London stores due to theft.

I packed up my purchases, paid for the remaining items, and slowly walked out of the store, stopping to browse as I went and smiling at the staff. Then I was out and free.

Just a few days later I was in Waitrose, in a nice market town, and I was stealing some delicious cold cuts and a steak from a self-service till. I was very excited.

My little habit has no regularity. I sometimes shoplift a couple of times a week, most often on a whim when I get to the checkout. But equally, I can go months without feeling the urge to steal.

However, if you think I’m an isolated case, a menopausal woman who went rogue, think again.

Recently, the security director of health food retailer Planet Organic claimed that the brand loses a staggering £900,000 a year across its nine London stores due to theft, and that its own supermarket in Chiswick is plagued by petty thieves. They shop there regularly, so feel they have a “right” to take something from time to time, given the money they tend to spend, he explained.

The theory convinces me. I justify my actions by convincing myself that the middle-class stores I rob have made me thousands of dollars over the years, that they make millions in profits, and that by using a self-service checkout I’m saving them money because I’m doing the cashier’s job. Plus, I get more of a thrill out of robbing fancier places.

I’m clearly not alone, as shoplifting has risen to the highest level on record amid complaints that the crime has been effectively “decriminalised” according to data released earlier this year.

Police recorded a total of 430,104 crimes in the year to December 2023, up more than a third on the previous 12 months and the highest figure on record, according to the Office for National Statistics.

Statistics from the British Retail Consortium last September revealed that shoplifting has more than doubled since 2020, with shoplifting costing retailers almost £1bn in 2021-22.

Put like that, it makes for sobering reading, and the cost-of-living crisis has clearly been a factor.

But why do I steal when in my case there is no financial need?

My husband and I sold a portfolio of properties here and abroad to build up a sizeable pension, we have long since paid off the mortgage on our four-bedroom house and our children have flown the nest. We have plenty of disposable income. I partly blame my guilty pleasure on the menopause.

It would never have occurred to me to steal even a sweet from a supermarket until my hormones went haywire when I was almost 40. In fact, I had never been a rule-breaker until then.

My first foray into shoplifting was almost accidental. Frustrated that a steak wouldn’t scan and there was no assistant to help me, I simply tossed it into the bag with the rest of my purchases.

If the store couldn’t be bothered to label it properly or have enough staff on shift, then I reasoned that they clearly didn’t care much about their stock.

Back home, I immediately confessed what I had done to my husband, who was horrified. He told me I must never do anything like that again, and although I nodded and made the appropriate sounds, I was secretly thrilled. I had a feeling I would do it again.

She was right. A few months later, I was doing my weekly shopping and suddenly felt the need to stuff a piece of cheese, pasta and toiletries into my bag without even putting them through the system.

As I walked out of the checkout, I even smiled and said “thank you” to the clerk on duty.

Being nice to the staff and never running out of a store with my loot is my modus operandi, the perfect way to not raise suspicions of my criminal activity.

I’ve seen a shoplifter try to flee a supermarket while the staff chase him, while I walk away like I don’t have a care in the world (or stolen goods in my bag).

Wearing the “invisibility cloak” of being over 50 makes my crimes easier. When I reached that milestone birthday, I felt as if I had suddenly disappeared from view.

I no longer received compliments, smiles from strangers or security guards in stores. The staff ignored me.

So walking away from a store knowing that there are stolen items among my paid purchases makes me feel powerful, like I’m fooling all those people who don’t even look at me these days.

Although I have once or twice hidden items under a giant “bag of life” in my cart while pushing it, most of my shoplifting happens at the self-service checkouts, which are a thief’s dream.

In fact, if these boxes had never been introduced, I would not shoplift, as the risk of getting caught would be too great.

Although I’m certainly not a professional criminal, it seems that getting older has made me no longer care about what’s right and wrong, but only what’s right for me!

And why shouldn’t I? I’m not harming anyone and I would never steal from a small or independently owned store.

I must confess that in the past I have stolen rings and bracelets from charity shops that could easily be put on my finger or wrist, but then I felt so guilty that I made cash donations to the relevant charities online.

Shoplifting has become my outlet during a stressful period in my life when I am exhausted helping to care for an elderly relative who lives nearby and supporting my children as they build their own homes and develop their careers. I am also struggling with the debilitating symptoms of menopause.

There are days when I feel like I’m spinning around in a hurricane and shoplifting has become my little escape.

I love the rush I get every time I realize I’ve gotten away with it. I imagine that once my hormones have calmed down and life doesn’t seem so complicated, I won’t feel the need to shoplift anymore.

I’m generally a bit open about sharing with friends and family, but my shoplifting habit is something I don’t talk 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 being caught and possibly ending up in court with a criminal conviction?

I would be extremely mortified if it became public; I would be terribly worried about what people would think of me and how I would explain it to my husband and children.

But my excuses are ready if I ever feel the heavy hand of a security guard on my shoulder.

“Stolen? Oh my god, I would never do that intentionally!”

“I’m so sorry, I have so many things on my mind right now, I’ll go pay for the items immediately.”

Well, at least part of that is true.

But the truth is that people pay so little attention to me now that I don’t think I’ll ever be discovered.

As told to Sadie Nicholas

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