Though it’s well located on rue Saint-Honoré, this is the sort of spot that’s easy to walk right by: There’s not really even a sign, and inside it’s hushed, dimly lit, cloister-like, and achingly cool, complete with rickety, slightly off-kilter shelves that literally sag under the weight of Astier de Villatte’s ceramic tableware. Made from black terra-cotta clay and then finished in the brand’s signature milky white, these perfectly imperfect dishes are the hallmark of some of the best-dressed tables we know. You’ll also find the house line of geometric-print, gold-rimmed notebooks (made by the last master printer in Paris) and the gorgeously old-fashioned candle and incense collections, along with a handful of oddities, like glassware cast in the shape of skulls and stout little teapots.

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