One more vide grenier, two more brocantes...

Last Sunday morning found us ambling around a vide grenier in Mirepoix.

   The big question here was...could you buy each item individually or did you have to walk away with the whole thing?

The careful editing and arranging--enamelware in this case--means that this stallholder knows his or her stuff--and prices are correspondingly higher than if you unearthed any of these from a carton underneath the table (my favourite place to search). I didn't even bother to ask the price of this matched set of vintage tins in prime condition.

  We own a duplicate of the one on the right. From the hairstyles, I'm guessing these date back to the 1940s or 50s.

On the secondhand social ladder, the vide grenier is at the bottom, with the depot-vente one step up, and the brocante above that. Then you enter the costly realm of the antiquaire. This brocante in Mirepoix specializes in old books and magazines. If you're a Brigitte Bardot fan, check out all those  copies of Paris Match.

The owner was still enjoying his Sunday lunch when we walked by. "I'm eating. Open 3 p.m."

But there's another brocante right opposite.

I just love this combination of sun-faded pinks and blues, and that intricate tiled floor inside.

     Beyond the shop is a secret courtyard crammed with more treasures. Next weekend, there's another vide grenier in a nearby village.
     And so summer Sundays go by...

Mirepoix's annual triple market

Carpet of flowers is such a cliché but that's honestly what it looks like.

Can't resist a louche or two of olives.

Just part of the haul.

So it's cracked and stained--just think of the life this platter has already led.

And look how well it goes with some of my other finds found at other brocantes.

Around this time of year, Mirepoix's weekly Monday market starts to get more and more crowded. At its peak, you literally find yourself in people-jams. The only way around this is to shop earlier than you usually do. But, on Pentecost weekend, you could probably arrive there the night before and you still wouldn't find a parking spot. 

   That's because the main square houses a brocante--antiques and collectibles fair--all weekend. Then, on the Monday, there's the annual flower and plant market. And the regular market with all its produce, meat, cheese, and other stalls has to be there too. What happens is that the market expands into the surrounding streets where parking is usually at a premium anyway. 

    But it was all worth it. A terrific one-euro find at the brocante. Lots of pots of lavender and rosemary, and a climbing rose, colour unknown but we're told it's red. The usual lettuce, parsley and other salad makings, and eggs from the egg man. We came away so laden that I stood by a tree and waited while Peter went and fetched the car. 

A Brocante in Mirepoix

Quelle contrast in the weather. Yesterday was warm enough for us to eat baguette and tomatoes (strewn with the last of the basil) in the garden. Today, we woke to sombre grey skies. Not a problem as we were off to Mirepoix to search for a dining table large enough to seat eight. 

The square was filled with people selling plants, onion sets and fruit trees. The arcades were lined with brocanteurs. 

Stalls displayed old kitchen utensils: molds for madeleines; moulis for making soups and purées; this box of heavy iron weight for measuring out meat, flour and vegetables.

As always, at these antiques sales, I was struck by the big snowy heaps of monogrammed linens. Many would have been embroidered as part of a trousseau, then stored away for decades, never used, when the 1914-1918 war destroyed so many of the young male population of France. Something to think about on this day of remembrance.