Thrifting through history at the Paris vintage flea market

PARIS — When Ines de la Fressange published her tome on Parisian style, the Chanel model and muse traced the French capital’s shopping haunts, highlighting one of the city’s best-kept secrets: the Paris flea market.

Called Le marche aux puces de Saint-Ouen, more commonly known to locals as Les Puces — which roughly translates to The Fleas — it’s a sprawling antique flea market, covering over six hectares. Opened in 1885, the flea market is home to about 2,000 shops, carrying everything from vintage modern furniture from the ’60s to faded pictures of old gentry to costume jewelry from as early as the ’20s to couture by the greats like Dior, Balenciaga, Chanel.

Located just off the 18th Arrondissement at the Porte de Clignancourt, the shopping district is in a poorer area, requiring shoppers to be vigilant against theft. (Don’t bring your passport, and keep your cash well hidden.)

The market is famous for its curated shops, which are often better-designed than most stores found in malls. You’ll find well-lit homages to rustic farmhouses, with antlers, deer heads and other assorted taxidermy mounted and artistically-arranged on walls.

My first encounter began with a shop that sold Schiapparelli costume jewelry, along with a staggering array of pieces from decades-old collections by Givenchy, Lacroix and the like. Though the prices were negotiable, they were not cheap. A charming tweed Chanel purse retailed for close to a thousand euros (roughly P120,000). A Balenciaga scarf the size of a small table cloth in an extended floral print cost 200 euros. But there were plenty of affordable finds for the intrepid shopper.

We discovered a shop devoted to selling odd knick-knacks, like baby-shaped buttons that hinted at horror film mise en scène, and pearl cufflinks from the early ’20s.

At a shop crowded with delicate Louis XVII chairs clad in faded upholstery, we chanced upon small gold figurines of animals, like something out of a turn-of- the-century mansion, which we managed to purchase for a mere two euros each. Score!

Unlike the flea markets I’ve been to in other cities, Les Puces is less junkyard garage shop and more of curated exhibit. Like anything French, the flea market possessed a certain flair that you couldn’t find anywhere else. And as we hobbled past a quaint cafe, the faint strains of an old lady’s warble drifting over our little party, our legs strained from walking by kilometers of stores, we couldn’t help but admire the ambience. In most other places, a flea market is where you haggle in your thriftiest clothes, dressed like a hobo. At Les Puces, it’s an experience.