"Tria i remena" at the Encants Market

It has been some time now that, as a society, we have begun to appreciate old or used things. Or, put differently, we have stopped obsessing over having everything new. We love vintage. Junk, clothes from when mom was a hippie, and dilapidated furniture that used to gather dust in house attics – when they weren't directly thrown into the dumpster – are now rescued and put back into circulation.

Already in 1947, Foix wrote "m'exalta el nou i m'enamora el vell" (the new exalts me and the old enamors me), words that could perfectly be said by a decorator today, after a morning of "tria i remena" (picking and rummaging) at the Encants Market. If you have a bit of skill, shopping at Encants – home decor items or second-hand clothes – can be doubly advantageous: prices are generally quite low and the pieces are unique and singular. Therefore, Encants is a goldmine for all those who do not want to succumb to the mediocrity that, almost inevitably, comes with, for example, decorating the house at Ikea and dressing at Inditex.

It is clear that there are still people, fewer and fewer, who consider shopping at Encants synonymous with marginality and misery. It is usually the same type of person who would be terrified if THEIR clothes and THEIR furniture ended up exposed and sold in the mythical Barcelona market. If they could, once dead, these people would have themselves buried surrounded by all their belongings – the blender they hadn't used for decades, the mink coat they stopped wearing when they became environmentalists – a bit in the style of what was customary in the Egypt of the pharaohs.

Los Encants are no longer that chaotic, picturesque, and somewhat dilapidated market where four students from the Theater Institute dressed in clothes from the year of the catapum and some Upper-class snob with a good eye for antiques bought a gutted chair at a bargain price that turned out to be by Puig i Cadafalch. The 2013 relocation to the current site – an open-air building with an impressive iconic golden mirror roof twenty-five meters high – has been a real boost for a market that was born in the 14th century at the gates of Barcelona's wall. Transformed into a mix of tradition and modernity, Encants – 301 shops selling new, outlet, and second-hand products and 9 catering establishments – receive hundreds or thousands of visitors every day who scrutinize the merchandise with the same enthusiasm as those very particular gentlemen who went down to the beach at sunset with a metal detector to scan the sand hoping to find some buried treasure.

I am quite fond of American home renovation television shows that abound on thematic channels. Not because I'm crazy about decoration, much less DIY, but because I'm fascinated by how easily they transform ruined houses into lustrous designer homes. Recently, I discovered one starring a couple of guys – a decorator and a builder – who are dedicated to restoring houses in the humblest neighborhoods of Detroit that they buy at a bargain price. This couple would have a blast at Encants because they are experts at making the most of outdated furniture and decorative elements that they buy for a few dollars in second-hand stores or, directly, rescue from landfills. Junk that, opportunely restored, repainted, or reinvented, transforms living rooms, bedrooms, kitchens, and bathrooms into unique spaces with a lot of personality.

Perhaps there are no longer great hidden treasures in Encants, but there are certainly many unique pieces that can have a second life and make ours more authentic and singular.