Buttons... Buttons... Who Will Buy My Lovely Buttons?

Calling all Pearly Kings and Queens.  I appear to have recently acquired at a local flea market an embarrassment of vintage buttons (I think that's what they're called en masse).  Not my usual kind of truc but they were a by-product of having purchased two very much needed table top vitrines.  So as quick as you can say Benjamin Bouton I was in the button business.

If you'd told me a year ago that I would spend a day and a half cleaning, sorting and researching hundreds of buttons I would have thought that you were crazy but last week there I was counting and bagging a collection that possibly took someone a lifetime to acquire.  Even more surprisingly I actually found them quite interesting!  

A veritable vintage button bonanza!

Some large decorative abalone shell buttons - Link to Etsy Shop

Some little abalone shell buttons - Link to Etsy Shop

A mixed lot of military and metals buttons - Link to Etsy Shop

One of the reasons for this odd buy was that a couple of months back I embarked on a modest project to make two cushion covers for the sofa in our kitchen.  Being something of a novice to this kind of home craft (I personally blame Kirstie Allsopp for my rather crumpled and dejected offerings) I was stunned at the price of the large wooden buttons I had set my heart on (a jaw dropping 3,50€ each!!!)

My cushions looking slightly apologetic at the ineptitude of their creator

With the price of those buttons burnt into my memory for the remainder of my days you can perhaps begin to understand why I jumped at the chance when I came across two table-top vitrines stuffed to the gunnels with the things.  

The much needed table-top vitrines designed to keep sticky fingers at bay

One selection I considered particularly stunning was a large batch of mother of pearl buttons. Their iridescence appealed to my magpie instincts and I found it fascinating how the backs had been left in their crude state.

It was whilst sorting through these buttons that an image of Pearly Kings and Queens in their wonderful costumes sprang to mind.  Admittedly there are not many cockneys roaming around rural south-west France but you never know who might find you with the wonders of the internet do you?  

Genuine mother of pearl buttons - See my Etsy Shop

It's funny in this business how life takes odd twists and turns but I never stop enjoying the fascinating journeys my trucs take me on and will never tire of learning about them.

My Rocking Chair

Sometimes things in your life just don't have a place anymore and it was with a heavy heart that last Sunday I sold my childhood rocking chair.  To many people this 1980's pine chair probably doesn't have much value but I did my best with a couple of coats of 'Pale Powder' Farrow and Ball paint to give it the face lift it deserved before sending it out into the world without me (sniff sniff).

Our slightly full car with my rocking chair strapped to the roof 

The brocante market was in our nearest town with commerce, Matha, and because we no longer have a van we decided to risk strapping the chair to the roof of the car (must buy a roof-rack) for the 3km journey.  Our old Volvo was so full by the time we had finished packing that Spike had to take his motorbike as there was no room for him on the passenger seat.

The market was set in and around the ancient feudal castle (or what's left of it) in Matha and being a local brocante it was pleasant catching up with lots of people we know.  

The ancient feudal château in Matha

Some of the stock we managed to squeeze into our poor old Volvo

As the morning passed it became clear that it wasn't going to be the most lucrative day we've ever had but when a lovely couple showed an interest in the rocking chair I was over there quick as a flash armed with my somewhat dodgy French sales patter "C'est confortable, n'est-ce pas?" or something along those lines. 

After the usual bartering we settled on a mutually agreeable price and the wife then turned to her husband and whispered to him confidentially in English "That's exactly what I wanted to pay".  

Having realised that we were all English we continued the conversation in our native tongue and I was thrilled to learn that they were going to put it in their young son's bedroom.  She absolutely loved the colour of the chair (recognising it as Farrow and Ball immediately - a woman after my own heart) and promised she would look after it.

My rocking chair... please don't look at the weedy gravel!

As I watched my chair disappearing into the crowd I did feel a bit sad but also incredibly relieved that I didn't have to drive home with it balancing precariously on the roof of the car!

Antique Hunting in Angoulême

There is a brocante coming up this weekend just 3 kilometers from our home so we have decided to reserve a pitch.  Having decided not to attend a brocante we had booked for a few weeks back this will be our first of the season so with this in mind last Sunday I went out on the hunt for a few more interesting trucs to add to my stock.  It was a bit of an overcast day but ideal for shopping as there is nothing worse than getting hot and bothered when your trying to sift through all the goodies on offer.  

Because my Mum and her husband were over from England for a visit we thought that the most picturesque and interesting brocante to visit would be one held in the supremely elegant Place New York in Angoulême. Luckily there was also a vide grenier which is a kind of car boot sale in a suburb of Angoulême called St. Cybard so I had hopes that one of the two markets would come good.

The Market at the Place New York, Angoulême

Even if your not into antiques the architecture is stunning

The amazing Hôtel de Ville (it's good to be Mayor!)

A view from the Hôtel de Ville to the covered market

The labyrinth of cobbled medieval streets

As it turned out the little flea market in St. Cybard was much more suited to my budget and I managed to buy some really interesting little trucs.  Unfortunately the wonderful and genuine antiques on offer at the Place New York market were well out of my league.  

In my innocence I picked up an elegant vintage car mascot and thought that aside from the obvious use it would make a super paperweight so with that in mind I casually asked the dealer the price.  I put it down pretty quickly when he said 400€.  It might well have been worth that and more but I must confess that mascots are not my area of expertise (unless they are of the doughnut variety -mmmmm..... mascotte aux pommes)

Anyway, it was well worth seeing a proper antique market in such a charming setting and admiring all their lovely wares.  You never know one day I may have the money to match my obviously exceptional taste but for the time being, sadly, I must cut my coat according to my cloth.   

Enfin le Printemps!

I'm so pleased to be able to say that spring appears to have arrived at last.  Our fruit trees are laden with blossoms, our honey bees (from Spike's two hives) are out and about again and there are daffodils, tulips and irises popping up everywhere.   

With all this wonderful activity in the garden and surrounding countryside I thought I would share with you one of my favourite songs - Enfin le Printemps by the little sparrow herself, Edith Piaf.

  

It's been a quiet week as far as being a brocanteuse is concerned so with little to report I hope you agree that this wonderful song is an appropriate and joyful way to welcome the arrival of le beau temps.