Salesman in Printempts (after my crap attempts at French): Where are you from?
Me: Australia
Salesman: Oh I thought you were Russian
Me: Really? Why?
Salesman: Because you have fake blonde hair
Me: *mock horror* Thats an insult! You know in Australia, Russian women only come there to snag a husband so they can stay there?
Him: *total deadpan* I know this.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Marche aux Puces de St Ouen (aka Paris flea markets)
St Ouen is apparently the biggest flea/antique market in Paris and boy do I love me some fleas.
Located in the north of Paris, it is a particularly el dodgeo area and should be visited with a little caution. Before you get to the true antique/flea goodies, you have to manouver your way through the cheap knock offs and junk first. I was careful taking photos in this part as the iPhone in my hand may have been replaced with a bong.
Be warned that you may be exposed to some extremely loud reggae and/or the fashion stylings of the Honorable Nelson and former Mrs Winnie Mandela:
From what i could navigate without a map (Lord of the Idiots strikes again), the real flea markets are somewhat of a maze and located in a few unusual sections. One being a large 2 level hall, the other much like a large, long term storage park of higgledy piggledy garages that was much like a very large maze of treasure. I fucking loved it:
I went here on a Monday when only about 40% of the stalls are open, so it wasn't really the true experience but it was probably better for my poor wallet and there were less people in my way when I had to run to the treasure (which was always).
This store was mostly old bakelite jewellery. Total junk but pretty to look at:
Poor Jesus, someone needed the wood:
I love these old hand carved wooden alphabet stamps, way overpriced though :(
This crummy old bar/cafe hidden in the back of the market is sposedly famous but I've never heard of it so it can't be that good. Maybe Piaf sang here on her off days:
These gorgeous old religious icons were a fantastic contender for my wall of tackiness until I saw the price. I don't spose they paid the church they stole them from €250 per piece.
I did end up buying a 1940s handpainted mold of a dolls face which I didn't photograph. When I proudly showed B and her sister, who I shall name The One Obsessed With Her Phone, they didn't seem very impressed, in fact they looked at me with slight disgust. Oh well.
Located in the north of Paris, it is a particularly el dodgeo area and should be visited with a little caution. Before you get to the true antique/flea goodies, you have to manouver your way through the cheap knock offs and junk first. I was careful taking photos in this part as the iPhone in my hand may have been replaced with a bong.
Be warned that you may be exposed to some extremely loud reggae and/or the fashion stylings of the Honorable Nelson and former Mrs Winnie Mandela:
From what i could navigate without a map (Lord of the Idiots strikes again), the real flea markets are somewhat of a maze and located in a few unusual sections. One being a large 2 level hall, the other much like a large, long term storage park of higgledy piggledy garages that was much like a very large maze of treasure. I fucking loved it:
I went here on a Monday when only about 40% of the stalls are open, so it wasn't really the true experience but it was probably better for my poor wallet and there were less people in my way when I had to run to the treasure (which was always).
This store was mostly old bakelite jewellery. Total junk but pretty to look at:
Poor Jesus, someone needed the wood:
I love these old hand carved wooden alphabet stamps, way overpriced though :(
This crummy old bar/cafe hidden in the back of the market is sposedly famous but I've never heard of it so it can't be that good. Maybe Piaf sang here on her off days:
These gorgeous old religious icons were a fantastic contender for my wall of tackiness until I saw the price. I don't spose they paid the church they stole them from €250 per piece.
I did end up buying a 1940s handpainted mold of a dolls face which I didn't photograph. When I proudly showed B and her sister, who I shall name The One Obsessed With Her Phone, they didn't seem very impressed, in fact they looked at me with slight disgust. Oh well.
Location:Rue Laurin,Rueil-Malmaison,France
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Paris Visual mediocrity #3?
My favourite park in Paris, Park Monceau:
La Defense grande arch, so big I couldn't fit it in my shitty photo:
Look hard enough and see a tiny arc de triumph in the centre:
Close up:
Street art in Abess:
Look closely at the ladies shawl, it's a collage of old fashion illustrations!!
Pigalle..... home of Moulin Rouge, but a pretty tacky area...
This vintage sewing supply store, Ultramod, made me nostalgic about a company I used to work for:
La Defense grande arch, so big I couldn't fit it in my shitty photo:
Look hard enough and see a tiny arc de triumph in the centre:
Close up:
Street art in Abess:
Look closely at the ladies shawl, it's a collage of old fashion illustrations!!
Pigalle..... home of Moulin Rouge, but a pretty tacky area...
This vintage sewing supply store, Ultramod, made me nostalgic about a company I used to work for:
Location:Rue Laurin,Rueil-Malmaison,France
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Manolo Valdes
Spainiard Manolo Valdes - New favourite artist!! Works found at Chambord Chateau:
The chateau:
Wowsers.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
I remember when Brittany was just a pop star...
I spent a lovely week frolicking along the shores of Brittany, (on the north west coast of France)... well more like running along the shores - running AWAY from the giant killer stalking seagulls they have here, seagulls that have NO fear and could possibly carry away a small child.
My first night I was awoken by what I thought was screaming only to find it was seagulls fighting outside the window. I witnessed an army of seagulls systematically disemble and proceed to anhilate an unattended picnic lunch on the beach. I dared not interfere with their wrongdoings for I feared they might peck my eyes out. Plus it was just funnier to watch and laugh from afar.
No wonder they have a statue in tribute of Alfred Hitchcock on the beach in Dinard, for he too saw the true evil in these beasts illustrated in his classic film, "The Birds"
Don't be fooled by the serenity, this beach is Seagull HQ. People use those blue and white tents as protective housing units.
No seagulls at the markets, thankfully. Mmm look at all those yummy olives:
This is the medieval village Dinan, by a river, not so much the sea:
I'm high up on a bell tower looking over Dinan, obviously happy and relieved to be far away from those perilous seagulls:
My first night I was awoken by what I thought was screaming only to find it was seagulls fighting outside the window. I witnessed an army of seagulls systematically disemble and proceed to anhilate an unattended picnic lunch on the beach. I dared not interfere with their wrongdoings for I feared they might peck my eyes out. Plus it was just funnier to watch and laugh from afar.
No wonder they have a statue in tribute of Alfred Hitchcock on the beach in Dinard, for he too saw the true evil in these beasts illustrated in his classic film, "The Birds"
Don't be fooled by the serenity, this beach is Seagull HQ. People use those blue and white tents as protective housing units.
No seagulls at the markets, thankfully. Mmm look at all those yummy olives:
This is the medieval village Dinan, by a river, not so much the sea:
I'm high up on a bell tower looking over Dinan, obviously happy and relieved to be far away from those perilous seagulls:
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