Sunday shopping at a Provençal flea market

Remi wrapped his arm around my shoulder, we picked up the pace and shuddered in unison. That Mistral wind! Always arriving precisely when it is most unwelcome. So it was on a Sunday morning in December. But the sun was gorgeous as it always is on such windswept days and for once, I had prepared, wrapping myself in layers of cashmere with gloves and a bonnet in my pocket plus fly-sized glasses to keep my eyes from tearing. I had to keep my focus. For yet again, we were on the hunt.
Of course, we didn’t actually need a thing from the brocante or flea-market at St. Etienne du Grès. But it has always been about the Art of Looking for us. The prick of possibility. From those very first weeks together in Vanves on the outskirts of Paris, we would walk the puces every weekend, sometimes on both Saturday and Sunday. It was our antiques education, not to mention free entertainment. We didn’t yet have a spare dime between us, so despite our empty apartment (I had only brought an Icart print and many pairs of heels with me from NYC), we simply asked questions of the dealers and compared likes and dislikes over a scrambled brunch upon returning home.
The Mistral whipped Remi and I off into our own individual orbits. Which was just fine as we were both too busy storing up little bits of lost history and found inspiration to be good company. Pushed forward by the wind, I rolled through aisle after aisle, past the sellers lunching on saucisson and warming wine, while mentally sifting the junk from the jewels at each stand. And somehow, just that walking while looking outwards with a soft gaze, always tends to do the same for me mentally. Stuck staring, I wondered with my head tilted just so and responded to each dealer’s enquiring eyes with a nod that was curt but kind. “No, sorry but no.” As always, I was searching without really knowing what I  was looking for and perhaps that is another reason why such flea market strolls are so comforting. Anonymous, right in the thick of the crowds, we all are.
I finished first as I often do, impatient red-head that I am. But then again, it just might be that I like that moment of turning back to search for Remi’s face, that familiar face, to catch him unaware with weighty eyes. Slowly, I reeled myself in towards him until that arm was replaced wordlessly, shoulder-round. We didn’t end up buying anything as we knew we probably wouldn’t and turned to leave as the dealers started to close up shop – repacking their wares carefully and with a hint of accustomed disappointment – all of us waiting for a “Yes, thank you, I’ll take it,” possibly at the next brocante.

A boutis or typically Provençal antique quilt. They are getting harder to find…

Rusty ponies, anyone?

Vintage santons and saints for a Provençal crèche

What do we think? An olive or grape press?
And for my friend La Contessa of Hen House
Did you see anything that tempted you?
Sending my very Best from a tiny village in the South of France,
Heather

47 comments

  1. Hello and bienvenue! And thank you for the info – I would never have guessed that it could be for grain sorting but that makes perfect sense. I would have just asked the seller but he had quite a scowl on his face so I didn't dare!

    And there is an amazing event in Montpellier – the professional deballage. It is several times a year and there are sellers from France, Italy and Spain and buyers from the world over. If you have never been, it is a must do! You can find the info needed at http://www.cipolat.com – the next one is Tuesday Feb 10th. I have written about a few of them that we have attended – you can find those posts in the search bar on the right hand side. 🙂

  2. Just found your blog, bravo! I live in the Languedoc now but anticipate a move to Provence. Those flea market pics did it, we have nothing that good here as far as I can tell. And I am a frequent flyer to any of them within a reasonable distance (I am a bit remote). The large wooden object I believe is a grain winnowing device or sorter. In your area, my guess would be rice……
    Thank you for the blog. I do a little one of my own, just to keep friends in the US up to date, I know how much work it can be.

  3. A day of relaxation: walk, browse, and learn. Or discover. I’m surprised by the presence religious statues.

  4. A day of relaxation: walk, browse, and learn. Or discover. I’m surprised by the presence religious statues.

  5. Hi Heather, thanks for the birthday wishes. Yes we are close in age 🙂 And thanks for the compliment. I did pass my test so life is more or less back to normal now. I love it when you go to flea markets and share with us. I would have bought some wire baskets, that wooden chair and the linens.

  6. Cool, thank you for the LInks! But I really have to come and taste before.

    Ooohh, it seems I do not yet have an idea about the prices at L'Isle. Hmm we'll see… (;

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