Greendaddy

Meh indeed. I love a rummage. I love old shiz. I love rummaging in old shiz. OK, before I go on, this is not a self confessional review of my Tuesday night visit to the nursing home… ahem.
Having lived near this place for a while now, I decided it was time for a good old dig around to see if any wee gems were just a waiting to be unearthed. Eh. Naw.
Does it have old shiz? Yes, yes it does. Is any of it hidden? Yes, why yes it is. Is any of it gem like? Naw. In fact I felt inclined to cover the non gems in more shiz just to hide them further in a collection of ‘meh’ items at ‘wooft’ prices.
You know how some stuff is just old and that some old stuff is well, just old, done, not worth reusing, well certainly not in it’s current form, well this place is full of it.
My review seems harsh. Maybe it is, but it’s borne through frustration of what could be. Bad Daddy.

Sorry to say my first impressions of Green Daddy arent good, I called them on saturday after seeing an ad on Gumtree for a washing machine, confimed they still had it and when I asked the man what time he closed at, he said 5.30, I rushed all the way from Dumbarton, got there at 5.05pm and they were closed, shutters down, needless to say I’ve now been looking elsewhere.

I wouldn’t go as far to say Green Daddy is the Grandaddy of all antique shops, but it fairs well!
The corridor is so long it makes me wonder at how you could fit such a big floorspace into a tenement block. The entrance makes you feel like you’re entering Narnia! And Narnia sure has a lot of sofas — they probably act as a resting point until you reach the main hall.
None of these are bad points, by the way — I was pleasantly surprised at how big this shop was and how much it stocked!
Once inside the main room there’s a wealth of second hand furniture, ornaments, electrical appliances, books, records, birdcages… did I mention the kitchen sink? It’s full of no frills utensils, perfect if you’re digging around for something of use that you don’t have to pay a fortune for. There’s some ornate mirrors hanging up, old creepy but kitschy 70s sketches of kids cuddling kittens, wicker chairs and lamps. Everything’s priced accordingly and the guy is always on hand to help while Clyde 2 plays on in the background.
In a world where your granny’s threadbare knickers are now labelled vintage and priced through the roof, it’s nice to see shops like this spring up again. I have respect for this establishment because it doesn’t sell itself as vintage — it’s second hand — and so is priced accordingly. It’s a bit more practical than some bric a brac bargain houses and spacious enough so you don’t lose your mate amongst the clutter. You could easily find cheap but preserved items to fill your house with in here.

Walking down the large corridor which leads to this shop, everything seems in order. Mirrors, furniture, fridges, dart boards, basically everything you would expect from your standard second hand bric-​à-​brac shop.
Meanwhile inside appears to be set out with a little more order than most other similar stores while prices appear to be equally as inconsistent, for instance, an antique mirror at 10 pounds is just five pounds more than a tattered, dog-​eared copy of Dude, Where’s My Country?
It’s all pretty standard fare, that is, until you notice a shelf stocking cotton buds, soap and other such items for cleanliness.
Quite what this says about the regular clientele of this place, I don’t know (there was nobody else in when I was there) but I just hope to god they’re not second hand too.