Tongue in Cheek:

Setting up

When I arrived in France, to our three chambres de bonne* and hallway apartment, it was not a nest. It didn't have bit of feather fluff in it. Located on the seventh floor, not close to heaven, though very close to the red light district of Les Halles in Paris.

I stared at it with my mouth wide open, no furniture, a kitchen smaller then a teacup, plus a bathtub with a huge skylight right above it. French husband was proud to have found an apartment in the heart of Paris. I pivoted around the little nest, asking him if he knew of any second hand stores? He told me that on Saturday morning we could go to a brocante (antique fair,) or a marchè aux puces (fleamarket.) These were the first French words I learned and the ones that would hold my heart close to France forever.

The following Saturday morning we went to a flea market. I couldn't believe my eyes. Had I died and gone to heaven? Treasures enough to fill every home I ever knew. I didn't know where to focus, mirrors, clocks, tables, rugs, dishes, postcards, linen, chairs, nightstands...French husband was labeling each thing as a Louis 15th, Louis 16th, Louis Philippe...Louis this-Louis that, what was all this "Louis-ing" about? I saw antiques, decoration, and bric-a-brac galore spread out like a picnic. Our three chambres de bonne and hallway apartment could be filled in one shop-stop.

My eye caught a hold of a cardboard box full of drinking glasses.

Oh I squealed, "Look Honey drinking glasses, we need glasses!" French husband glanced at the box, then at me with a puzzling stare..."Pots de Confiture?" "No no no," while I pointed to what I thought were drinking glasses. In disgusting disbelief, French husband gave me my first French culture lesson: "We do not drink out of confiture jars." Why not, I questioned, they make great drinking glasses as I imitated drinking out of one. I asked the dealer in English, How much? The blank stare put me back to reality! I turned around and stared at French husband who took the cue and asked how much in French. French husband's eyebrows raised as if to say, you gotta be kidding 100ff for old dusty, *pots de confiture!! French husband quickly added like an auctioneer a dollar a piece! I waved my hand, reassuring him that the price was OK, we bought them and moved onward.

Next we came across a table, a table de campagne, as French husband referred to it. Without knowing it we started what would become our best negotiating tool --language culture barrier in our favor--This is how it went:

We would see something we liked-

French husband would ask how much then he would translate it to me.

I would say offer half. French husband would balk and say he didn't want to.

The dealer would chime in saying, "Ah your femme wants the table!"

I would ask French husband to translate. I would smile.

The dealer would smile.

French husband would say it is a good price, let's buy it.

I would become stubborn, no offer less. French husband would look up in the air experated. The dealer would offer a lower price.

So on and so forth this went, the dealers often thought it was French husband who didn't want the object, and would offer it to him for less and less. French husband feeling terribly embarrassed, which translated him looking as if he were upset and mad, I appeared as the little woman pleading her man to buy! We always walked away with another feather in our cap!

*Pots de Confiture,

Jam jars. The image enclosed isn't one of the pot de confiture /jars/glasses we bought 17 years ago. This image is of pots de confiture of an older style (1900s period,) we use them as aperitif bowls, or whatever fits our fancy. Here is yet another use for pots de confiture!

*Chambre de Bonne,

Chambre de bonne is the French word for the Maid's Room. Each apartment in the building use to have one small room, (roughly 50 square foot,) on the seventh floor, for the maid. A single bathroom was at the end of the hallway for all the maids to share. Literally they lived under the rafters. There was a separate staircase as well.

Our Apartment use to be, three Chambres and part of the hallway. The previous owner had converted these three rooms and the hallway, into one apartment. This is were we first lived in Paris 17 years ago. Small is an understatement, what it lacked in space it made up for in Charm!

Some of my most favorite memories are gathered there up above Paris under the rafters.

Flea markets in France

If there is anything that can make my heart beat like a passionate drum, it is to go to a antique market! Anytime, Anywhere! Even if it means driving five hours in a car, having to sleep in the back, then waking at 5am, freezing cold and walk around with a flashlight in order to see what I can find-- I am there!

The pleasure it is to see someone unloading boxes from their van, seeing a snippet of something old calling my name, and then being the first one to ask the price for it. The icing on the cake is when the dealer doesn't know the value of the item and announces a price so cheap that I nearly pay for it without negotiating! That has happened on more then one occasion (otherwise would I really drive five hours, sleep cramped in the back seat for nothing??)

Living in France has many rewards, antique markets happens to be one of my favorites. On any Sunday there are probably more fairs then you can shake a stick at! Often I wonder;

"How many Armoires can a country have for sale?"

My Mother came from California to visit me in France; She had heard of my many escapades and was excited to see what it was all about... as soon as she was at the market she said, "It is as if I have died, I am in Antique Heaven, my tongue is hanging out and I am tripping over it!" Her first concern wasn't how to barter in French? But HOW was she going to get all that she wanted to buy back home!?!

One time at a fair there was a man unloading his wares. A crowd had quickly gathered around, people were shouting prices and flashing money, things were selling fast! It was one of those rare moments, where it seemed a chateau had fallen from the sky, landing at our feet! Unfortunately, I was standing behind the scene. The van was on my left side, tons of boxes and baskets loaded with wonderful objects were in front of me, followed by the dealer and the crowd. Suddenly, my eye caught hold of an eighteen century, five arm candlestick, made of pottery from Apt! I had never seen a candlestick like that before, and I knew it was something worth diving for...not a graceful dive but more like a jump-plop-flop dive. I grabbed the candlestick in a swoosh and held it up even though I was splattered on the ground! "Bonjour Monsieur" (that is the first rule, be polite before negotiating, even if you have dove for an item!) "Combien pour ça?" How much for ...this I asked. Since, he didn't see my jump-plop-flop, because I had dove from behind him, and due to the fact that there were nearly 100 people in front of him, he didn't seem to take notice that I was in his stand or should I say in his wares...he flipped a hand and called out $15. Second rule, " No matter what price has been announced ask for less." I said $5. He gave a quick nod as to say done deal. The crowd gasped, was it because I had dove? Or dared to ask for a lower price for something that was worth a hundred times more? Or because the dealer agreed to sale it for $5?

This is my first step to sharing my journey and adventures about antiquing in France. I am an American, my French husband exported me here from California nearly 18 years ago, I arrived with two suitcases. Our very small apartment in Paris was empty, that is how the adventure begins....

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