(In case you don't follow my blatherings, I'm referring to René Magritte's surrealist paintings, the best known of which offers an image of a pipe alongside text that says Ceci n'est pas un pipe -- This is not a pipe -- For my photo-composition, I might say This is not . . . a hat? a dog?)
And just because I know some of you are wondering what I'm pulling out of that carry-on luggage to navigate the stylish streets of Bordeaux, I got Paul to snap a few shots later the same day as we strolled along the expansive promenade along the Garonne. This cotton knit dress (by Danish company, Jackpot) has been a useful piece so far, and my Fluevog oxfords have been great -- as the weather warmed up that day, though, the black tights began feeling uncomfortable as well as out of keeping with the welcome hint of summer.
Now tell me, what would you have done, faced with four long rows of booth after booth of marvellous antiques and brocante . . . mortgaged the house, chartered a freighter? Or would you have looked for a few particular and packable items (oooh, there were linens. . . . and there was silverware . . . and beautiful China (Sèvres teacups) . . . .