Aux puces de Saint-Ouen

Greetings friends, 

Midnight came and went two and a half hours ago but here I am, buying books online. In the wake of GDPR, Verso is having a sale for their most loyal email subscribers. I took advantage of a 75% discount on physical copies of Fortunes of Feminism by Nancy Fraser and A Walk Through Paris by Eric Hazan. Less than four pounds each! The Perfect Crime by Jean Baudrillard (part of the Radical Thinkers series) was also 30% off, so I threw that in my cart too. I love Baudrillard so much. One time I thought it would be a cute idea to send a Scottish guy in England a page I ripped out of Fragments where JB was going on about smoking. I don't know if he ever received it. I'm not even a smoker but I'll try to post the excerpt here soon because I love the way it's written. 

This morning I woke up around 10 to make my way to meet some friends at the Marché aux puces de Saint-Ouen. It was one of the best Sundays I've had in a long time. Things I certainly did not need but wanted to purchase: 

  • Giant rugs 
  • Picnic baskets & honeycomb hats 
  • Ornate bird cages (!) 
  • Oversized silk shirts 
  • Empty matchboxes
  • Etc. 

I scored a 1950s pleated dress, some incredible old postcards, and Marie Claire magazines from the '30s. Can't wait to analyze problematic French copy from an earlier era! (My birthday is in 19 days so maybe I'll get some party-hosting tips.) La pièce de résistance, however, was the most vintage piece of dusty "sad girl" art I could find. (I'll be posting a more detailed review of the flea market ASAP. In the meantime, feel free to check out my Instagram.) 

I will say that the overarching mood of the flea market was feigned nonchalance for products and animals alike. We witnessed a particularly majestic dog outside of Chez Sarah

"Faut pas lui dire qu'il est trop magnifique!" his owner laughed. 

But everything felt magnifique to me and I cannot help but profess my adoration for the objects of the past. I'm terrible at bargaining. 
"I love old things," I once blurted out to a guy while sitting in the passenger seat of his 1950's olive green Land Rover. It was our first and only date on my last day in California. En fait, he was taking me to an art auction in Van Nuys. But that's a blog post for another night! 

Wish me luck at work tomorrow!
Gros bisous,
R