flea market

“Is there much flea marketing and craft fair fun to be had in your corner of the world?” asks Everyday Lovely. Is there ever.

The French (outdoor) market on Thursday mornings at Oxford’s Gloucester Green is a decorator’s dream. The first few times I saw it I had the thought “If this were in the United States . . .” every twenty seconds, followed by visions of all my old garage sale buddies stampeding the stalls. So much potential. Everywhere I look the “repurpose” bells are ringing like mad in my head. This market has the most amazing collection of random vintage treasures I’ve ever seen–most of them cheap. The dealers sit at stalls–really just tables with canopies for the likely rain–and spread their glories around them. The rules? Watch where you’re going and never, never pay the asking price.

It’s a difficult place to window shop. One’s fingers itch to dig out a couple of those thick gold pound coins and part with them forever. It is only by reminding myself firmly that (1) Those coins are money and (2) We are traveling light in this world for the forseeable future–that I am able to get through it at all.

Old linens, bright ribbons, buttons, and hats. Tables, mirrors, frames, and suitcases. Paintings, postcards, trains, and dollhouses. Books, books, books. Bowls and teapots and trays. Relics of war and sea. Endless inspiration for any crafty, artsy, DIY types with a limited budget and an imagination . . .

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3 Responses to flea market

  1. Elena says:

    Goodness. gracious. I wouldn’t even know when to start!

  2. What could possibly top a flea market in Oxford? Oh dear, I would have never made it through with coins still in my pockets. The strength of your resolve is commendable indeed, Betsy!

  3. Pingback: when i picture today | part of the main

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