As much as the farm fresh vegetables, brownies and flowers one of the pleasures of the twice-weekly, marché is sitting and people watching from the front tables at La Noisette.
We often discuss the clothing of those ambling by. No Paris runway during fashion week has such a variety and probably wouldn't want it.
At my age I still love clothes and can't help comparing what I see with what I might wear. It is a balancing act between being "lamb dressed up as mutton" and looking like an old fart, the latter which I never want to fall into. I like trendy things, but need to hide the less appealing parts of my body.
One of the women that passed today must be pushing her mid eighties yet was chic in her slacks and top. We won't discuss those crammed into outfits made for a person several kilos less.
We point out different animals, cute kids, how much people are buying, what we are having for lunch, what we read on Facebook as we sip our moccachinos. Last week we photographed passing dogs. We are thinking of doing tallies of things like number of t-shirts with writing in English vs. French, people wearing shorts vs. skirts, etc. our own mini social survey.
And of course none of it would be as much fun without that weekly moccachino. All the staff know we want only half the whipped cream and to leave the calories in the part they don't add to our cups.
Then we toddle off to get our own flowers and veggies. Good mornings as we say good morning or bonjour to those we know passing by.