Saturday morning at the brocante (flea market) in Paris was freezing cold so I came prepared. I brought my twenty-year-old, faithful down jacket that looks every bit as old, it did its job and kept me warm.
The French brocante never disappoints me, which is a good thing otherwise there would be no way I would leave my comfortable bed and warm home to venture in the early and freezing morning. Here are a few photos that I took along the way. Why photos of these things and not others I have no idea. In fact, I do not even have a photo of the things I bought, but I do have sore arms from carrying them to the taxi that I needed to take because the loot was too heavy!
Books, paper, ephemera are as heavy as bricks!
Do not let the pages fool you as they do me.
Snippets of conversations I hear every single time I go to the brocante:
How much?
Can you do a better price?
I had another one but I sold it yesterday.
No, I cannot do half off, it is worth more than that, and at that price, I will keep it.
It is old, it is from the 1700s that is why it is cracked.
I paid too much for it.
There isn't anything interesting today.
What did you find?
How much?
A simple lesson I have learned from the brocante:
There are dealers who are more expensive than others, and when I see things on their stands I assume that the price will be expensive because of it,
First lesson: Always ask the price.
I admit I am a brocante snob, if something isn't old I rarely give it notice… But that is a mistake, some things that aren't old have merit duh.
Duh.
Expect the unexpected.
Look above, below and beyond.
Let it come to you.
See beyond the dust, the flaws, the imperfections see the history that touches your story.
The size of these shoes struck me narrow and size 18.
Incredible large for a woman's shoe isn't it?
Cafe au lait bowls.
If ever you are in France please come visit me especially if you have an addiction to the brocante, or not.
xxx
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