Like most street sales, this was held in the center of the old town, and you can catch little sneak peaks into the courtyards of the old houses. I didn't have the guts to tell this guy to stop setting up so I could take my damn picture!
There were a lot of antique dealers and I got there so early after the rain that most people hadn't put up their tables yet. Prices were somewhat high, not a surprise as this town is most definitely well up on the upper middle class scale.I bought a cute little smocked boutique dress for my daughter (cheap! and not at all similar to the fashion disaster on the left), and stuffed it into my bag. The seller freaked and told me after having spent all that time ironing it, I could at least fold it up nicely in my bag. Um, lady, it'll get a hell of a lot more wrinkled in the wash, which is where it's going next! Why do people care what you do with their stuff once you've paid for it?
While walking back to the car I ran into an actual garage sale (or house sale, as it was in her house). I am so sorry I didn't take pictures of what I saw! This old stone house had once been a farmhouse. It had beautiful exposed beams and the floors were covered with typical French reddish-brown tiles (called tomettes). She had all sorts of vintage dishes and old wooden items, such as an old butter churn. So much that either she's a big collector or is an antique dealer! It was all so beautiful, though. It really felt like a French country Grandma's house.
Moving away from country elegance into tacky suburbia, I leave you with this vision of vintage garden gnomes. And a squirrel!
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