Bringing Beautiful Things Home: Foire de Chatou

Every spring and autumn, I make my way to the Foire de Chatou, just outside Paris. Hundreds of dealers gather there, and by the end of the day my feet ache, my notebook is full, and I’ve probably talked myself out of buying ten things for every one that comes home.

Unlike the smaller brocantes tucked into Parisian neighborhoods, Chatou is expansive and thoughtfully curated. As its reputation has grown internationally, so have the prices. I still discover wonderful treasures there, but I shop with a more discerning eye than I once did.

The softened edge of a well-used cutting board. Linen that has been washed hundreds of times until it feels almost impossibly soft. A basket whose handles have darkened from decades of faithful use.

Those are the pieces that stop me.

I’m drawn to objects that were never meant to be displayed behind glass. They were made to be used, loved, repaired, and used again. To me, that history is what gives them soul.

 

The hardest part isn’t finding beautiful things.

It’s walking away from the beautiful things that don’t belong.

Over the years, Chatou has taught me a few lessons.

Go early.

Dealers and decorators arrive before most visitors have finished breakfast. The commitment is real, and so is the competition for exceptional pieces.

Think about how you’ll get your treasures home.

Kyle and I have carried small tables, magazine racks, cutting boards, and even andirons onto crowded trains and through Paris neighborhoods. Looking back, those journeys have become part of the story. Still, I’m grateful I don’t have to carry an antique farm table by myself.

Always begin with “Bonjour.”

Whether I’m in a field in Provence or at a brocante just outside Paris, I never forget that I’m a guest. In France, a greeting isn’t simply good manners—it’s the beginning of every good conversation. A warm, confident “Bonjour” opens more doors than any negotiation ever will.