Edit 9: Petit Merci
Some places find you twice: first through other people’s love for them, and then, if you’re lucky, while you’re out exploring.
I’d seen Petit Merci pop up in posts from locals on instagram. They were the kind of casual mentions that felt trustworthy because there wasn’t any crazy hype, just affection. Beautiful images, simple captions. I’d hoped to go, but hadn’t made any solid plans since Charleston mornings have their own rhythm. But on our last one in town things were quiet, unhurried, and very happily, open to a bit of serendipity.
It was during a solo walk when I found it-tucked in and waiting along Montagu Street.
No crowd, no line, no soundtrack beyond the soft hum of the morning passer-by’s. Inside, it was just me and one lovely soul behind the counter, Reagan. It was warm, welcoming, deliciously cozy.
The sort of presence that brings warmth and ease to a space designed with intention.
Petit Merci is part café, part market, part boutique, and wholly charming. Coffee or tea poured slowly. Pastries arranged like they knew they were beautiful. Shelves styled with that effortless French-girl romance-confidence, bespoke sundries, and charming homewares-each unfussy enough to tempt you into one more look. It felt like stepping into a secret Charleston wanted to share, but only if you were paying attention.
There’s something special about discovering a place like this: without witnesses, without noise. It lets the details speak louder-the care, the intention, the quiet magic of a space doing exactly what it’s meant to do.
I lingered longer than planned, grateful for the conversation with Reagan, the much needed tea she prepared, and was more than a little pleased to experience it this way before the rest of the day really woke up.
Charleston is full of the beauty you expect to find, but it’s these moments-guided by local love and rewarded with solitude-that stay with you. Petit Merci felt like a pause button, a reminder that sometimes the best discoveries arrive unexpectedly and thus feel that much more personal.
Merci for the moment, and merci for the morning. Au revoir!
All photography featured in this post is original work by E.D. Quon Photography and is protected by copyright. Please enjoy, but do not copy, reproduce, or use without permission.
