Itchin' for some flea market

Saturday morning.  Sun is out.  Husband's out golfing.  What's a wifey to do?  Well, in England us ol' lasses take our asses to the, um, flea market.  Sorry, I'm not in California anymore, I don't live amongst the stepford wife socialites anymore.  Where displaying my designer handbag on my forearm with matching sunglasses at the local mall hangout is the norm.  Instead, I opted to go to the regular Saturday flea market held in Harlow ( love the name).  The flea markets here are so amazing.  So much to see.  So much to eat.  So much to buy.  So much to save....sort of.

One of my favorite words is "bargin."  Everytime I see a sign that says "everything in this bin 1 pound." I make a beeline for it and make myself look like a dehydrated buffalo at a watering hole.  Rummaging through piles of cheap things is like looking for buried treasure.  Like they say, "One man's trash, is another man's treasure."

But let's talk about the British flea market.  So yeah.  It's amazing.  Once again, tons of English accents swarming the air....this time it's notched up a couple of decibels by the bellowing vendors selling things from potted plants to cell phone cases.  Good ol' English heart attack comfort food scents infested the air  as well.  The smells caused drool to appear every time a food truck was passed.  It was hard for me to keep my hand out of my wallet and my mouth dry.

Aside from from my eardrums being filled and drool falling from my mouth,  there was plenty to see as well.  The things sold here compared to back home in the states, is pretty similar.  I would say the only difference would be the absence of the tamarind candies and hot sauce and lime chips. Also, the type of music played was pretty different as well.  Instead of hearing Mexico's greatest hits playing from a vendor's van, songs from South Africa were being played by the similar looking van ( the driver's side was on the passenger side).  There were tons of designer brands.  Such designers like, "Ducci" "Channel" "Louise Vuitton," were seen at pretty much every other vendor table.  I must admit, however,  they were pretty spot on to the looks of an original.   And yes, I must say I did break down and supported the Designer poser.  No one will know.  :)  Another thing that I find odd is the whole camouflage fad over here.  I dunno, maybe it's because I'm a military wifey, but what is the big deal?  I see so many vendors selling military accessories and apparel, and people sporting it as though it was the newest fashion trend at New York fashion week.

Some of the products, I must say were pretty fashion forward.  Besides the glamorous camo fits that sold like crazy, clothing that you would see being sold at the local shopping mall were being sold for under 5 pounds.  Only thing is, ALL SALES FINAL, and no store branded shopping bags, only the cool all white plastic bag.  Very classy.

I swear, I didn't want to leave.  I was enjoying the sights of the various breeds of dogs jumping and barking at each other, and marking the middle of the walk way.  I was also hypnotized by the different types of human breeds.  Seeing the Middle Eastern women covered up, the British chicks with heels and caked up faces, the Turkish men staring at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world, and the drugged up English men talking in their undecipherable accents and flicking their fags at your feet, fascinated me beyond fascination.  The only thing that pushed me to leave was the cold gust of wind against my almost frost-bitten hands.  Yes, even though the sun makes an appearance over here, we are not blessed with the matching heat like in California.   It's ok, I'll be back this coming Saturday.