my dearest darling friend heather, who has been with me since wednesday, and i went antiquing post-mass yesterday. we had intended to go to calvi, but then lost ourselves with gay abandon in the brocante where i spent the better part of forty quid.
it was totally worth it.
heather and i found a gorgeous bargain bin chock-full of miniature liqueurs - gin, whisky, bulgarian rose flavoured amaretto, and curacao in lightbulbs (!). i fell in love with the faceted cognac bottle and snaffled up a couple of red and black label johnnie walkers. it was one of those moments where you said to yourself "€2 apiece!?" and then wriggled with joy. the fact that the owner of the stall threw in five extra didn't hurt either!
i haggled the above down from €40 to €10. it will go somewhere in a cluster of similarly tarnished gold frames in my bedroom.
more rummaging ensued until one very kind and enthusiastic lady (who had hair the colour of the night sky)presented us with a photo album brimming with vintage postcards from belgium and france. my earliest find dated 1905, but many were sent during and between both world wars.
there was something quite moving about holding a memento in my hands, stamped with "antwerp" and curling with age.
it's unfortunately invisible, but the edges of the above card are misted with a mirror-like foil that shimmers like fish scales.
sent from jeanne to alice in 1905, the writing is etched deep into the front of the postcard.
beautiful watercolour and a faded gilt-glitter stamp.
heather's haul - sunny daffies and primroses, a lady with hair just like hers, and brown bears for her loved ones.
i have never been one to pass up religious tat/memorabilia/iconography. i think it drives my nearest and dearest insane, but that's okay! the little medals above only set me back €5. stupidly good. the seller fondly calls me his "petite cliente" and has spotted my weakness for the religious, frequently searching me out from other stalls and showing me things he thinks i'd like (i drew the line at the seashell madonna though...)
it was a glorious sunday. we went out for huge quantities of pizza, heather's 5-day-late luggage arrived complete with glass tea pot and her clothes and underoos. an earlyish night ensued after some fly-by-the-seat of your pants lesson planning, and all was well.
heather also sat me down and made me watch (though after she told me what i was watching it took little persuasion) the bbc's dramatisation of poet christopher reid's "the song of lunch" featuring ALAN RICKMAN *swoon* and EMMA THOMPSON whose elegance always makes me feel like miss havisham in comparison.