Travel | France 2024

About once a year, I take off on a whirlwind adventure through Paris and Provence to find the most interesting antiques and curiosities I can at the dozens of brocantes scattered throughout France—but more than that, I’ve come to see it as a haven for my creative energy. Paris is where my soul takes rest. ⁠

That said, rest starts with nourishment, and so the moment my plane dropped down and I checked in to the hotel, I slipped right back out to Le Bone Marche and the epicurean center as I’ve been plagued for weeks by a craving for strawberries and fresh cream. Each one was the purest shade of ruby, and tasted like I imagine the gemstones might—exactly how food is meant to taste. ⁠⁠

With a hint of summer lingering on my tongue, I took to the streets for a proper wander; my favorite way to get around Paris.

And it hit me that I cannot fathom how anyone could tire of this place. Not when each turn provides another glimpse into the windows of other’s lives, the foods they eat, the conversations lingering beneath emptied café awnings as the day grows late. For all the cynical articles I’ve read or pessimistic reviews, this old city continues to prove them wrong.⁠⁠

And while Paris weaves an enchantment, I’m certainly not the only one caught in its spell.⁠

One of my annual visits is paid to a market that is a hub for entrepreneurs, craftsmen, small businesses and historic ones. It’s here that I make connections and find new brands to introduce to the American South, delighting in the new colors or designs that I’ve yet to see in Savannah, Charleston, or elsewhere. ⁠

Without giving too much away (we do want some surprises for you around the holidays), I found an incredible line of Spanish bags, patterned wrapping paper, and scarves—all things I believe you'll find in the store soon enough.

Finally, we dropped by the Astier de Villatte factory to fall in love all over again with their latest ceramic collection including a truly remarkable octopus sculpture (bottom right) and one of their artists (top left). Please keep an eye out for that blog!

Provence provides its own sort of magic. Moments where life perfectly reflects art.

It happens when the color of a vase or light glinting off glass feels like it was orchestrated at the end of a painter’s brush, and everything falls into balanced composition. Sunlight hits weathered gates, coaxing the leaves to fold closer until its held tight. Antique frames stacked like the unfolding of a fan across a ballroom three centuries past. 

And somehow, I have access to it all. 

We glided from town to town in our quaint little van, picking out wares by the handful: jewelry boxes, more globes de mariées, portrait frames and crystals and so many books. My companion proved a brilliant negotiator, her French flying far faster than I could hope to keep up. 

There is a thrill in the treasure hunting. Turning over a hundred charms until you find a rare cameo carved of shell. Searching silver for a maker's stamp. Feeling linens for the delicate initials stitched over a hundred years ago with care. 

I hope you feel that care when you unearth these treasures in the store next season. 

I hope you feel just a little of Provence inside.