A call from the wild

I've received a call from the wild; irresistible and compelling, it cannot be ignored. Last night, Pierrette, my flea market 'personal shopper' telephoned me with the seductive words "I have a load of beautiful clothes set aside for you, can you come to the 'puces' on Sunday?" I struggled with myself, unable to say the words "Sorry, no, I really can't make it". It was plus fort que moi and I crumpled. "Yes" I said, "that'll be fine, I'll be there early!"

I am only just solvent again, and this will be a test of my self-control. It's my greatest self-control challenge, actually, well, apart from maintaining calm before the storm of my eldest's pre-adolescent temper when made to practice his violin and do his homework instead of playing on the computer.

So, I'll head off to the largest flea market in the area - La Paillade, Montpellier on Sunday morning, and you never know, I might even see something I could sell on Ebay too... That would ease my conscience about indulging my need for some newish clothes, and may even offset the cost... ha ha...

I asked Pierrette where she sources the clothes. She's a former beautician and has links with used clothes networks from the Cote d'Azur. Some of her items are from chic little boutiques, and are barely worn. She knows what I like, and rakes through all the rubbish picking out selections which are in my size. It's terribly useful because she saves me the trouble of doing it myself from numerous sources. She also spurs me to buy quirky things which I would never have the courage to buy were I not being egged on, so my wardrobe is much more varied than before, and I obtain a lot more pleasure from wearing my clothes.

Shopping this way is terrific fun, and much much easier on the purse, and I never was an up-to-the-minute fashion victim. Way too stressful!