The day we sold our stuff at the Dublin Flea I was the kind of hungover that wavers between giddy/delirious and grumpy/exhausted. In other words, the perfect kind of hungover. There was a distinct lack of water near my person so I was far less hydrated than was necessary or desirable…which may be the reason for the delirium, I’ll never know.
Aside from the bargains, vintage clothes, incredible food and cute dogs the best part about the flea is the people watching. Everyone, or so it seems, is young, attractive and ridiculously cool. There was one unbelievably attractive man wandering around barefoot with perfectly coiffed hair, an oversized scarf and a vintage book tucked into the back of his jeans. Richard overheard him buying tools for his woodworking hobby. You had to have been there. It was a spectacle in the best kind of way. I mean where else would a man in a velvet emerald jacket with a handsome beard be wandering around running the show like a big, beautiful circus?
Look at this little guy. I can’t remember his name but I could have taken him home. Lily would love a squishy pal, right?
Man in suit. I can’t remember if he purchased anything? Either way, a suit on a Sunday is impressive. I was wearing the closest thing to pyjamas one can get away with in public (hence no photos), comfy comfy.
People actually bought things which was great…I did have visions of coming home with more or less exactly what we brought, but thankfully that is not how it transpired. If you feel the urge to purge I would highly recommend a day at the flea market…you get rid of crap, make money and chit chat with the city’s most attractive (and usually equally hungover) people.
Oh and the avocado toast. It’s pretty much worth it for that alone. It was incredible.