Ah, Paris, the infamous capital of long can-can lines featuring topless or naked babes.
But who needs the Moulin Rouge, the Lido, or the Crazy Horse when you’ve got these nude conga lines at the stand of Jacqui Petit at the Marche aux Puces at Vanves? And topless... in their own way.
This morning I'd browsed at about 25 antiques booths without seeing anything very eye-catching. Then I happened upon this display. It took my breath away. Witty, a bit macabre, and so artfully arranged.
“May I take a picture, monsieur?” I ventured with my most winning smile.
“Alors, UNE photo?” he lobbed back at me. I thought he was going to refuse my request. “Pourquoi UNE photo seulement?” he laughed. “Take as many as you want! One journalist was here earlier this morning and took two hundred and forty pictures. He ran out of film.”
Jacqui introduced himself. “It says ‘Jacques’ on the card, but I am Jacqui!” he crowed.
“Alors, euh, Jacqui, where do you get all these poupées?” I queried.
“Ben, un peu partout. Here and there,” said J.
“And do you have your own petite guillotine?” I joked.
“Ah, oui!" he laughed. “Ça, oui!”
“Well, I’m going to publish tout ça on my blog.” I said. It’s just too magnifique. I waved good-bye as I headed off for more discoveries. "Merci beaucoup, Jacqui!”
"Je vous en prie, bébé!"
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