
Back in 2013 when Joan and I stayed in Paris for 3 months, I bought the most fabulous pair of boots in the world. I’ve worn them for more than 1,000 miles and they are starting to show their age. Like me. Like us. Like that octogenarian who couldn’t get the 4 foot door of the public toilet on a street corner to close so she just dropped trou’ like they were the walls of Jericho. I would say she had balls to do that but that has been fact checked.
As I am now back in Paris, I decided to try to replace said boots. I tried on no less than 20 pair. Included in my now-fluent “boot French” dialogue was: 1) I need a shorter heel, 2) what’s with the buckle?, 3) absolutely not, 4) too expensive, 5) I will think about it, 6) Is this Brazilian hide? 7) Oh, la la la la la, 8) Meh. I did not buy boots.
After boot shopping, I confess, I went to the flea market. As long as I’m confessing, I went to the flea market yesterday, too. It is otherworldly and indescribable. Maybe the pictures can be my words.
So much for wondering what I would do in Paris without The Husband. The only money I spent was for lunch at a fascinating little Guinguette.
Things I observed today:
1. 100% of the people wearing berets in Paris are not Parisian.
2. People can be creative with police tape. (A very large police presence was on my street this morning).
Tomorrow I attend fashion shows all day. I even have press credentials. I mail ordered them. Yep.
Devil dog’s French cousin?
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Bien sûr ou peut être?
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Enjoyed the flea market photos because those markets are never the same place twice and always see such variety!
Laughing at the person who used restroom even without getting door shut – and hey – when you have to go –/ well ….
-/
The video of the eatery interior was nice too
And wishing you a nice week head
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I appreciate you stopping by. I can’t get enough of the big flea market. I get lost and never see the same thing twice. That woman was a scream. I can’t wait to be old enough to get away with that kind of shenanigan!
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Love your balls joke too
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Glad you caught that one!
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😊☀️
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Pray tell, what is the flying saucer looking thing at the flea market and did you buy it? That could be the remedy for flying coach on the way home!
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If I knew how to buy a shipping container I would’ve filled it by now—not with the flying saucer which I think must be a conference room of some sort. Ugh. Coach on the way home! At least I won’t be trying to sleep.
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Have a great time! Glad you don’t have to crash the fashion show this time.
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Me, too! It’s always more comfortable using the front door!
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Are those unusually large families or community tables? Flea markets are, “Fascinating!” (as Raymond Reddington would say.)
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Community tables which is why it was so fun. I love that you’re quoting Raymond Reddington! Spader is so creepy and awesome in that role. This flea market is ghastly large and they sell everything including the kitchen sink. I could get lost in there for days.
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Want to visit Paris so badly 😭
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I hope you do someday. It is magical.
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Alison, face it – flea markets are the bomb. They can be a trip through our rich, halcyon past, or a wander down the lane of bad taste … or a combination of the two. I particularly like flea markets in foreign countries because they’re always a look at history. For example: I remember my first trip to Eastern Europe and the stalls of Russian military memorabilia – fascinating. ~James
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Yes, I always like to look through the baskets of old war memorabilia. I found a charming compass necklace charm at a small flea market in Paris a hundred years ago and I wear it every time I go to Paris. It has saved me from going the wrong way so many times. But the giant flea market in Paris is truly otherworldly. I’ve never seen anything like it.
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Alison I also travel with a tiny compass. I hate coming out of the metro and never knowing which way to go.
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Les puces de St-Ouen are great, aren’t they?
(I’ve seen that flying saucer.)
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I wish I had an apartment there just so I’d have an excuse to drag stuff home from Les Puces. Can’t get enough of it.
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Haha! Maybe I can sell you a studio I have there. (Taxes are killing me)
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That’s the problem. We can’t afford a one bedroom but our marriage couldn’t handle a studio (we keep different hours). Ah, well. I bet the taxes are outrageous.
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Space is important. 🙂
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I would have liked a photo of the “oh la la” boots (7).
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I should’ve but since they were a ‘no’ I thought the salesman would have been offended!
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I know exactly what you mean about those chance purchases one makes while traveling. The shoes from Chicago, bought after walking for hours in pain. The scarf in Barcelona on a windy day. The sweater on a wintry summer day in Ireland that is warmer than my parka. I’ve worn them all to death in the years since. I don’t think those things are replaceable . . . just like your boots. At least you learned some more French in the process. And ‘What’s with the buckle?’ is an important phrase to know in any foreign language.
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I have missed you. It’s good to hear from you. I bet my boots have more than 1,000 miles on them. Maybe I can just get a tune up?
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