Hand-Me-Down

In our unconscionably selfish age, where and how does charity fit in? What are our motivations for doing charitable things? And how, in particular, do second-hand charity-shop clothes connect us both to one another and to the past? These are the questions that Kate Craddock explores in this genuinely bizarre one-woman romp.

The stage of the semi-spacious Pleasance Attic comprises a few clothes rails and boxes, loaded with charity-shop ware. Throughout the performance, Craddock uses these props as cue cards to explore the lives of various characters. There’s a Geordie charity-shop owner, for instance, followed by a Scottish lass who “grew up on second-hand clothes” and a toffy-nosed gap-year student who’s never been into the “vintage look”. These are meant to offer a spectrum of differing attitudes towards charity – a noble theme perhaps, but, like the hand-me-downs Craddock so values, it's a little worn.

That said, Craddoc's unconventional approach to theatre, and the charisma she serves it up with, certainly counts in her favour. The choice to hand each audience member a raffle ticket and then call on lucky ticket holders for help during the show undoubtedly works as a tactic for keeping everyone interested.

But like a charity shop ensemble, this show could go one of two ways. It’s either so weird it’s cool or (as I’m more inclined to think) it’s just plain weird.