Thanx God I’m a VIP is the Best Vintage Store in Paris
Wherein I share my favorite Paris vintage spots & rave about the wonder that is Monoprix
Welcome to the fourth and final post I’m doing on my vacation. It’s been fun to dwell on France for so many weeks, but I’m ready to bring things back home. Next week’s post will come to you straight from and specifically about Nashville.
Until then, I hope you enjoy this week’s post as much as I enjoyed researching it!
If I didn’t buy much in Normandy, it was at least in part because I was holding out for Paris, where the vintage stores bulge with gorgeously made specimens from European fashion houses and the flea markets, called puces, offer up unimaginable treasures.
I’ve had good luck thrifting in Paris. I have pieces in my collection that I purchased there back in the late ’80s that I still wear.
But nothing beats the trip I made there in 2010. That’s the visit when I picked up a two-foot tall vintage sequined showgirl headpiece — my fantasy is that it was worn in a show at the Folies Bergère — for some stupidly low price. I got it at the weekend market at PORTE DES VANVES, a puce in the 14th on the southwest Paris that I used to favor over CLIGNANCOURT, the largest and most elite Parisian flea, which is in the north.
Same trip, I found a pair of insane gold snakeskin Terry de Havilland platforms at the well-regarded luxury consignment store RÉCIPROQUE, located in the tony 16th arrondissement, for an equally great price. I also found a Herve Leger lavender and silver textured metallic jacket that was marked as a sample from the spring 2020 season. It looks like a disco ball and still makes me exceedingly happy.
I timed that visit to my 40th birthday, but it was essentially a vintage buying trip. From 2005 until about 2011, I had a side business selling secondhand clothes called Diamond Star Halo Vintage, named after my favorite line from the T. Rex song, “Bang A Gong.” I’ve pared down a lot since then, when I had a basement literally wall-to-wall full of clothes, but my stash is still substantial. Eventually, I want to sell some pieces on here.
Anyway. Back in 2010, I ending up sending four good-sized pre-paid shipping boxes back to the States filled with great frocks from Vanves and the crowded and at-that-time easy-on-the-wallet vintage boutique FREE'P'STAR (the name is a play on fripes, the French word for secondhand clothes). There are five locations of FPS in the same general vicinity, and even though I didn’t make it in to see them last month, they’re worth a look if you feel like digging.
Another place where I used to find cheap vintage was the flea market at the PORTE DE MONTREUIL, on the far east side of Paris. It’s dingy as hell and a bit iffy, especially on the periphery (watch your wallet). But in the early 2000s, I found it to be a great resource for vintage French military gear. I guarantee you I was the only fashion editor at Paris Fashion Week those years who followed up a Chanel show at the Louvre with a metro ride to a shitty flea market. (Tip: When you get off the metro, if you’re in the mood for a dig, make sure to check out the large location of GUERRISOL, the French thrift store chain. It was a long time ago, but I’ve found amazing leather there.)
All this to say, I have a precedent for vintage shopping in Paris. So, when I got there, fueled by my great track record, I was ready to go.
The problem with coming into a situation driven by the memories of a great prior experience is that you’re bound to be disappointed in at least some way. I know this, so, so well. But it didn’t stop me from being bummed when, after three and a half days, I left Paris with only one piece of vintage clothing — a cute but unremarkable black shorts jumper I got for 35 euros at Clignancourt.
That’s the thing about secondhand shopping — sometimes the thrift gods shine their light on you, serving up fantastic clothes that are just your style and size. Others, the vintage deities are on their smoke break when you find a great place to shop. You win some, you lose some, and the thrift gods keep score.
The gods assigned to me must have been OOO while I was in Paris, because I was SOL. Other than the jumper, I never found anything that knocked my socks off that was within my budget, which wasn’t small (I’d gone on a shopping moratorium for several months before I left), but not huge, either. I was ready to spend money if I found something phenomenal — like a dark blue double-breasted Gaultier suit (think Madonna in the late ‘80s — see: 1:57 on the “Express Yourself” video) that is among the items on my Vintage Holy Grail. But nothing really clicked.
(A word about the Grail: The first entry is the blue plaid, high-necked flannel Ralph Lauren dress from his “Prairie Collection” that my mom wore in the early ‘80s and then sold at a yard sale — kills me just to type it. I managed to find an image of it that I am 98% sure ran in Seventeen magazine at the time: it’s the third image in the carousel embedded in the NYT story about Buffalo plaid from 2016 written by my old writer friend Troy Patterson.)
While I didn’t make any big acquisitions, I still managed to cover quite a bit of ground.
I had heard about THANX GOD I’M A VIP from several people who said it was the best vintage store in Paris. They were not wrong: this place is incredible.
The main store (there are three on the same block, two for women, one for kids and homewares) is laid out like a horseshoe, with perfectly spaced hanging clothes lining both walls so perfectly that I was initially confused, thinking that I was looking at a mirror (make sure to check out the virtual tour on their website to see what I mean). Stock is top-notch, mainly from the ’60s on as far as I could tell and is divided by color (all seasons are displayed all the time) and, in a few cases, occasion: the wedding dress selection is a dream. Though I saw plenty of names I knew, the focus there is on chic, not designers. Prices range from strikingly reasonable to reasonably high.
I’ve been to hundreds of vintage stores; it takes a lot to impress me. But TGV (to those in the know, darling) blew me away with its retail approach. This space was designed for the purpose of selling and has a mix that is both edited and broad (hard to to). They have a cohesive visual marketing strategy, in the form of the photos of people wearing looks styled from the store’s collection posted above the racks. The staff were super helpful and nice, always a plus.
Ironically, the three things I bought there were not vintage: they were accessories from TGV’s collection of in-house designs and collaborations. I got a rad pair of deep blue sandals, a striped woven plastic carryall, and a fan (it was hot as shit) that matched the purple in the bag.
If I was rating my vintage stops on a 10-star system, Thanx God would get 11.
I’m going to share my other top recs from this trip as bullet points, for the sake of column inches.
VINTAGE CLOTHING PARIS – I happened upon this lovely, small-ish store on a lightly trafficked street in the Marais in 2017. This trip, I sought it out. It was still as well edited and interesting as before. Mugler, Ann Demeulemeester, Issey Miyake, Alaia, Dior, Romeo Gigli — all those guys are there. And I’m here for it.
CELIA DARLING – My favorite of the many vintage stores in Pigalle. There was plenty of YSL and Courrèges etc. to be found, but also an incredibly thoughtful and rather charming edit of “unnamed” womenswear from the ’70s. Perfect bridge store for anyone trying to step up their relationship to vintage.
STUDIO W – The kind of stores that my vintage dreams are made of. I knew even before I rang the bell to get in that I was probably not going to buy anything: this is a museum-level experience, with accessories behind glass and walls two-racks high with gorgeous designer clothes. The owner spoke very little English but I was able to express to him how much I appreciated his collection, which made him smile.
CHEZ SARAH – One word, with periods and caps used for emphasis: E.P.I.C. And huge. If I could figure out how to post videos on this thing, I’d put up the one I made while walking down the enormous store front, located in the Le Passage market at Clignancourt (I’m shit with distances, but it was at least half a normal city block long). Inside, you’re given white gloves to browse the immaculate womenswear, which is separated by designer. An experience.
BEATNIK - This is my wildcard, a hipster-friendly spot packed with vintage miliary garb, leather jackets, and workwear, including artists’ smocks. I died for a deep indigo waxed linen number that the v cool owner told me is the kind worn by Matisse and his contemporaries. But at 600 euro, it stayed at Cignancourt.
ODE TO MONOPRIX
This first time I remember seeking out a Monoprix, France’s better-than answer to Target, was when I was coming to Paris to cover fashion shows in the early ’00s. I had heard from another editor or read somewhere that you could get children’s tanks from Petit Bateau there for much cheaper than they sold them in the U.S. I’d recently taken to wearing them (this is not the first nor the last time I have shopped in the boy’s section) and was keen to find them at a bargain.
I found those storied tanks, but I also found true love. Monoprix is hands-down the coolest chain store in Paris, or anywhere else in France.
Why the obsession?
First, variety. Where else can you shop for chic clothes, cool homewares, all the best French beauty brands, and groceries under one roof? It’s one-stop-shopping at its best.
Second, collaborations. Petit Bateau is just the dainty little tip of the iceberg in terms of Monoprix’s collaborations. Former partners include India Mahdavi, Terrance Conran, Patch NYC, and iconic French pastry chef Pierre Hermé, as my buddy Kerry Diamond reported in an Instagram post last week.
Third, quality. Monoprix products are built to last. Case in point: I bought a red striped long-sleeved sailor’s T there in 2001 that I still wear. In fact, I’m wearing it right now. No joke.
Finally, price. As in, they’re good. Much like I rarely walk out of Target without spending three figures (there’s a reason my pals call it the Buck Twenty-Five Club), I rarely leave a Monoprix binge without spending close to 100 euro. But for that, my shopping bag and my heart are full.
During the two weeks I was in France, I visited no fewer at least eight Monoprix (Monoprixes?). While I bought shoes, two great long-sleeved striped sailor T-shirts, shoes and beauty products that I love, my favorite find was a blue and white striped thick cotton fabric dop kit in the men’s department that says “Monsieur” (that’s it, above). It gives major Clare V vibes. I carry it as a purse.
THE BEST COSTUME FOR THE DAY
Before there was Desert Vintage, the uber-chic, rightfully expensive, wildly creative vintage store that vintage shoppers obsess over today, there was Desert Vintage, the damnedest vintage store in Tucson.
From the first time I visited DV around ten years ago, I was obsessed. I’d spent some time in Tucson — I even got sober there in 2005 — and really dug it. But I’d never pegged that sleepy city as the home what I think is the country’s best vintage clothing boutique.
Back before owners Salima Boufelfel and Roberto Cowan were selling three- to four-figure treasures from Yohji, Geoffrey Beene, Issey Miyake, Romeo Gigli (my weakness), and all the other greats in their store on the Lower East Side, they had an equally chic but lower-priced edit of clothes in Arizona.
I have several pieces from DV from that era that I love, including a coral and turquoise dragon printed 1930s evening dress and a truly fabulous yellow Westernwear dress with bugle-beaded silver stars stitched to its full skirt. But the cotton sundress with modernist appliques I have on here is the piece I wear the most.
It’s got a full skirt and lovely little thin straps that extend up from the piping, which you can’t see here because I pulled on an antique cotton coat stitched with a needlepoint pattern. I got it last year when I was Hawaii at No. 808 on the North Shore in Oahu. The shoes are Margiela and are part of my slowly growing collection of tabi ballerinas. If I can’t wear heels all the time, I can at least wear interesting flats!