I CAME to vintage as a teenager, and like all good love affairs, it was instantaneous and all consuming.

Despite a penchant for wearing a pair of my mum's old paisley trousers, which I used to team with a studded belt to a rather dashing effect, I didn't really start rummaging until I moved to Manchester for university.

I thought returning to home would mean the end of that burgeoning love affair.

When I left Gwent in the heady days of 2008, if you wanted to purchase something vintage, the only option was to raid any one of the many charity shops.

While satisfying in an archaic hunter-gatherer experience, charity shop shopping was, more often than not, rather unsuccessful.

But when I returned to my hometown of Abergavenny in late 2011 I was surprised and delighted to find a vintage shop had opened.

As the sunlight dappled softly on the bay window of Vintage Vision, I couldn't but help think the fashion gods were smiling down on me. So, having established my adoration of 'preloved' clothing, you can imagine my delight when the boss said she wanted me to work in Vintage Vision for the day.

Needless to say, I was delighted.

I anticipated happy hours spent rifling through row upon row of slightly musty, but still-relevant, vintage goodies. And that's pretty much what happened, Vintage Vision is first and foremost a social enterprise. All clothes, bags, shoes gloves, hats, belts, glasses and books are donated, and 100 per cent of any money raised goes back into the business.

Any money leftover after overhead costs have been paid is used to run classes to teach women to sew, fix, remodel and love vintage clothes.

Vintage Vision also holds fashion fairs and shows, runs workshops with schools and colleges on vintage fashion and offers work experience to women who want to get back to work.

The sewing classes teach how to restyle your clothes, save money, and learn a new skill. Vintage Vision has invested in six brand new sewing machines, plus boxes of materials, clothes and trimmings to raid, and runs the classes for free.

Vintage Vision as social enterprise and shop is run by a group of women with ages ranging from 17-83.

Around 25 people are involved in the business and the shop has 12 regular volunteers.

Some volunteers are in the shop for a couple of hours a few times a month, those with more time on their hands volunteer every week.

Some of the volunteers know a lot about vintage clothes, some know very little but are learning.

Addele Faulds, 23, from Abergavenny, volunteers at the shop while she looks for a job. She showed me how to dress the window, arrange the hats, check the china for chips and damage and how to organise the clothes.

She also runs an online shop on handicraft website Etsy, making and selling everything from jewellery to bits and bobs.

She said: "I'm really into vintage clothing, so working here for me is pretty perfect.

"It's a nice place to work because everything is very chilled. The first thing we do when we all get in is put the kettle on.

"People just pop in and out throughout the day, and we have our regulars on certain days.

"People donate some really amazing things, and I think most of my wardrobe is from items I got from the shop. "

Beth Davies, 19, from Abergavenny, said: "We've both volunteered here pretty much since the start, although today is the first time we've worked together, which shows how many people are involved!

"I really like volunteering here. I left school when I was 15 and being here there's a really nice atmosphere. You can talk about everything, and there's always someone popping in for a cup of tea.

"Because of the age differences, we are sort of learn from each other"

Bernadette Kelly co-founded Vintage Vision three years ago. She said: "We always need volunteers, as unemployed people come to us and work for a few weeks, but as it looks so good on their CV's they tend to get snapped up very quickly.

"We are so much more than a shop. What we deliver as a social enterprise gives people so much more, from our classes, from volunteering and even from donating.

"Another wonderful part of VV is that we get women of different ages and backgrounds in the same place, having a chat and working together. It really does break down boundaries. We have Betty, who is in her early 80s, come in every week to do the ironing for us.

"At the same time, we have volunteers aged 18 or 19. You'll walk in and find them all having a natter around the till. It's great.

"One thing we are trying to improve on is recording the story behind the clothes. We don't always do it, but when we do capture it can be so lovely. It makes the clothes that much more special, to know their story, and the story of the women who once owned them."

"We have all sorts donated, from items that were handmade for a special occasion or Sunday-best, to Balmain and Dior.

"The thing about vintage clothes is its a better cut and seamstresses come in and look at our items and they can see that the items fall properly, which is something clothes from mass-producing factories just can't do.

"Plus, vintage clothes just feel so much nicer!"

I confess, a small part of me was worried that working in a vintage shop might take the rose-tinted sheen off my regular excursions to pre-loved emporiums, yet conversely, the opposite seems to have happened.

After being invited into the inner sanctum, also known as the storage room, I had to take a few moments to stop myself hyperventilating. Rack upon rack of unsorted vintage items were crowded into the tiny storage room above the shop. It was heaven.

But it wasn't all high jinks and frivolity. Addele, Beth and I tried on hats and agreed which looked best. I sorted through hundreds of vintage sewing patterns which were being stored in an artfully battered leather weekend case.

I checked handbags for any bumps or scrapes, and I helped to rearrange the window. I ironed some on the newest donations (under Addele's tutelage - "Don't iron the polyester!") And of course, I indulged.

I bought a beautiful white leather handbag with gold clasp, a delicious chain-print shirt with a striking over-sized collar and the prettiest white shirt with an embroidered collar.

In a typical high street store, like TopShop, I could expect to pay £60 for the bag and between £30-45 for the shirts. My shopping spree came to a grand total of £36.

And therein lies the beauty of vintage. You can pick up one of a kind, durable and timeless pieces, from an era when clothes were made to last. There was no fast-fashion in the 1950s, no Primark or New Look to get a quick fix All in all, I had a lovely time, and that is what makes Vintage Vision work. The women, regardless of age, jobs, backgrounds or income, they all get on.

They banter, they laugh, they disagree on pricing, all over a cup of tea, and that is what makes Vintage Vision a truly social enterprise.

Vintage Vision is holding a vintage fair in Abergavenny Market Hall on June 23.