Bonjour, Thursday...sometimes I get stuck for inspiration and have to go deep into les catacombes of my brain to seek out thoughts and notions to light my fire. Today I'm going back in time to my Paris trip, most particularly those incredible moments/hours spent at the flea markets. That feeling of waking up early in Paris, with the rooftops yawning and heaving their morning salutations- the cafe creme at the tabac on my corner (Le Diplomat) and the brioche specked with dots of hard sugar- heaven. Porte de Clignancourt, officially called Les Puces de Saint-Ouen, is certainly the biggest flea in town- the treasures there are not to be reckoned with- it's a labyrinth of incredible old chairs with beautiful bones, leather goods from Morocco perfect for your next trip abroad, and everything from vintage Fellini posters to floppy felt hats and beyond- it's a force of the found. Going to those flea markets is a mind blowing, heart happy experience- seems like the whole city comes out and searches for something special to bring home, something with history and dust and a storied past to reinvent. I'm not sure life gets better than that, really. I guess my Romanian peasant roots come out at places like this- I love to haggle, hustle, and dig. I love the banter (in French) amongst the shopkeepers and their customers and the rhythm of walking through those narrow streets created by stalls and stalls of vendors. I love how well curated the stuff is at the Paris fleas, of which there are many. Dying to go back. Now. Maybe you're thinking of a place that sends you today too. If you're a bit mucky or stuck today, find that spot and keep it top of mind. It will surely get you through.
Cause that's what's up this flea filled Thursday in the MIA. XO
Cause that's what's up this flea filled Thursday in the MIA. XO
