Jason’s first post Where do all the dead chairs go reminded me of a brocante at St-Cyr-en-Pail in north west France I visited a few weeks ago. It was originally started by brothers in 1948 who collected rags and animal skins to sell on. The business developed until they were sending lorry loads of rags across Europe. As the trade in rags dried up the piles of rags in their store grew and grew, which got me thinking about what it takes for a business to change direction in response to the market. In their case it was when their pile of rags reached the ceiling of their vast two storey storage barn and weighed in at 100 tons.

They branched out and now have an unimagineable collection of architectural salvage and antiques piled floor to ceiling in barns and shops occupying a whole end of the village. It’s a magical, mysterious place that looks set to live on if only because it would be impossible to clear out.

The insane pile of rags remain as a reminder of their origins and raises all sorts of questions in the observer. How many families of mice live inside? Does it have its own gravitational pull? Does it generate heat like a pile of manure? Is the center still solid, or has it decomposed into an organic mush. Why didn’t they stop collecting rags?

Maybe they had a sense that the market would turn a cycle and one day rags would once again be a valuable commodity. Which lead me to my final reflection. Do they still have a 100 ton pile of rags… or do they now have a 100 ton pile of vintage clothing?