Last Sunday I went to St Ouen, the largest antique flea market in the world, to find some things for the apartment. I had my list:
Two or three doors.
A chandelier, or lightening for the bathroom, bedroom and kitchen.
A low round table.
A base for the bathroom sink.
A bed head.
And as the saying goes when you want something you cannot find it, and when you aren't looking for it, it licks your face. I tried a reverse finding method, and pretended I wasn't looking for the things I had listed. But all that did was distract my attention as I started looking at other things. I am easily distracted when it comes to antiques.
A day bed in worn-greenish-grey velvet and a gilded frame. The day bed would make an unpractical, uncomfortable sofa. Since the apartment has one bedroom I have been told that I should have a couch that makes into a bed for extra guests. I agreed with the sayers of such an idea. BUT to myself I silently yelled, "Yuck! Sofas are not old, nor unpractical oruncomfortable."
I think an old sofa is the way to go.
Airmattress to the rescue when need be.
The decoy ducks in the iron urn caught my eye. Loved the originality of the decoys instead of flowers. I snapped a photo with my iphone. Later when I was on the bus coming back to the hotel I looked through my photos, and noticed the door behind the urn... Quack! Those decoys really fooled me.
Mid day I abandoned the idea that I should pretend not to pay attention to my list.
The most lovely hand carved wooden clock face stared at me. Reminding me that time is ticking and I better get a move on to finding the needed things otherwise I will have to resort to NEW things.
The kitchen is new, the bathroom in new, the floors are new... those things I agreed on for practicality, fuctionality, user friendly-ness... more so for cost and labor. Choices. It is all about choices.
Today we unwrapped the tiles for the bathroom. Rough black marble is what it said on the box, and what we thought we ordered. Though inside the box was grey marble tiles.
We bought them months ago, when we thought the project would start in April. Too late to take them back, and too late to order new ones.
Choices. Grey is fine. Not perfect, but neither is my weight. Not something to be upset over... but if they had been yellow well I would have screamed, thrown up and I don't know what!
An antique armchair and stool covered in old rough linen, nail studded around the edges. I have seen this for the last ten years and I never grow tired of the look.
A plaster fragment from the top of a mirror.
When you live in France and have as many brocantes around as there are, you learn to walk on or start a business.
I do a little of both. Mostly walk on. If I bought everything I saw I would have to have an orchard of money growing trees in my pocket and shirtless men driving trucks following me. Shirtless men or forget it!
Not on my list.
Taking photos help.
A pair of iron statues holding lanterns. I am not sure of their age. But they sure were dandy.
So very decorative.
But this was my favorite, a potter's table with a column head.
It would have filled the bedroom. Who needs a bed!
It would have filled the kitchen! It is a table! Who needs a place to eat, err dine?
It would have filled the living room! But who wants to sleep while in Paris?
Choices are such a thrill kill!
I came home empty handed, and surprisingly very pleased that I didn't succumb to buying what wasn't on my list.