I cried at the Braderie today...

Well, for those of you who don't know what a braderie is, this title is indeed as odd as it sounds. A braderie is only a hyper-organised version of a twice-yearly jumble sale (the French are in fact hyper-organised, despite stereotypes to the contrary), so what on earth could bring tears to my eyes?I'd gone along to the large but slightly down-market braderie near my Thursday lunchtime lesson, mainly in the eternal search for more trousers for Son 2 and some fabric for my stash.

Both searches were successful. Some nice linen here; much cheaper buying it this way:I also discovered the knot of vintage scarves for one euro that I'd turned down in the autumn:

The red, white and black one is smudged and ruined, but discovering that this Pierre Cardin one is a lovely silk, and in great condition, decided me... And this orange rayon one is great fun, even if it's in poor condition.For 33c each, why not?So, taking one last turn round a table I'd visited before, amongst the collected grot of the last two decades, I suddenly saw a glimpse something else:And tears prickled in my eyes! I didn't bawl, you'll be glad to know, but I was quite surprised by the strength of my emotion.

It's not very old, it's not even hand-stitched, but the pearl buttons and the cotton and the careful stitching speak of something else to me, something far away from the nylons and machine production of the rest of the braderie offerings.Even if it's not a fine example, more of a copy, I was transported from mass-production to craftsmanship.Seeing it there, unappreciated, at only one euro when everything else was going for two or more, I nearly wept for it!

But I think this little top has come to a good home now.Are there things in the fabric world that can move you to tears?