Brocante and chiant

Hideous couple of weeks during which incompetent bank manager nearly messed up our entire mortgage and we nearly, almost, both died from heart attacks in his office from the stress of it all. He looks like a slug and is about as effective. Let's not dwell on that anyhow, it's all ok now.

In the middle of all this and to counter the harmful effects of spending too much time in a stuffy office with a horrible man, I went off to potter round brocantes (bricabrac) in South Pigalle. I made a beautiful purchase, and then Vélibed home, playing hide and seek with the Sacré Coeur, which appears at the end of most streets in that area.

Salt and pepper sun and cloud, it was a lovely afternoon and I found this beautiful comb at the stall of a lady who specialised in mid-century accessories:


I believe it is a second from a batch of YSL hair combs, designed by Roger Scémama in 1968, all in plam tree shapes. Fabulous sticking out of a messy updo.