French la Vie

 

What is up with the brocante? Oh, a lot. Always a lot, which is a good thing, I could never say, "Been there done that." Which is, by the way, something I can hardly stand hearing. I guess I never grow tired of being at the brocante, seeing the old stuff being unpacked, hearing the chatter in the background, "What did you find? How much did you pay? Are you going to sell it? How much? Can you do a better price?" Because in an odd way it is a French heartbeat. When I go to the brocante I see old things that have a history of the land, a lifestyle, stories unfold with conversations with the antique dealers, at the brocante I have discovered out of the way villages, met people and have picked up tons of French vocabulary. l

 

 

 

 

It is true, you know, what they say, the best way to learn a foreign language is to fall in love. That is how I learned to speak French… at the brocante in France. And while learning French I learned a few more French things: History, culture and occasionally about wine, and flirting. Brocanteurs love to flirt. Harmless, entertaining pass time while seeking out old stuff. 

 

 

 

 

French Husband is known for buying coffees for brocante dealers. At the brocante flirting isn't anything more than acceptable amusement. Good humor in the wee hours.

 

 

 

 

Of course, even if there wasn't flirting, I would still go. Go. It is a drug. Living in France with all these brocantes, auctions and "in the know addresses", it is a wonder I can sleep.

 

 

 

 

Well the French brocante ever became blasé for me?

Seriously I bet not.

I have had this passion since I was 14 when I went antiquing with my mom and Aunt Marie.

Drug of choice.

 

 

 

 

Antiques are the true coquetry teasing me constantly:

"Look closely, come closer, touch me… here I am take hold!"

teasing…

"Don't you want me?"

And then those words in French. God French is sexy isn't it even if it is talking about brocante (I was going to say junk, but thought I better not… sniff.)

 

 

 

 

 

The brocante such a lovely place to be, where age is considered the true test of beauty.

The older the better.

Where wrinkles mean rich patina.

Yes, brocanting teases us to believe in a beauty that isn't defined to the modern version surrounding us. 

 

 

 

Who wakes up at five and shaves, or puts on makeup.

The brocante welcomes all types, crumpled or combed.

It takes you the way you are, seduces, grabs you… and lets you find your delight amongst the collection of old things that still sing.

 

 

 

 

 

Today I am adding more to my brocante online shop. 

Taking photos of the little bits rarely grabs the soulful feeling, or the ribbons strings that pulled at my heart. How can it? Fabric is meant to be felt. Touching old wares inspires.

Though most of all how the brocante pieces mingle,are spilled out with other like minded brocante pieces creates an atmosphere.

If you are ever in France… I am going to open a little shop and you can come by if you want. Send me an email. I am warning you… the stuff is addicting and you might want to move in just to snuggle up to the bits and pieces of happiness.

 

When are you coming?