Vincent is always telling me there’s no battle between the sexes in France. He says that a book like Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus would be a total flop here. I was skeptical at first, but after living here for two years, I’m convinced.
Today I came across an article written by Debra Ollivier, the author of Entre Nous: A Woman’s Guide to Finding her Inner French Girl. It’s one of those books about why French women are so sexy (implication: so much sexier than anglo-saxon women) and how to be like them. The article was a rebuttal to another article by Zoe Williams, who bashes Ollivier’s book and others like it with stereotypical feminist outrage. The angry, humorless kind that gives that “F” word such a bad name.
Both articles are worth reading. If you reflect on our endless fascination with “the sexy French girl” you might begin to examine why femininity provokes confusion, discomfort, and conflicting emotions in some women. Those who aren’t French.
One of Williams’ criticisms is that Ollivier includes Simone de Beauvoir in the “French Girls We Love” section of her book. She suggested that to call Simone de Beauvoir a “girl” was demeaning. She posited that de Beauvoir would have taken issue with that label. That’s entirely possible, of course. Simone de Beauvoir wrote the book on the feminine condition. But something tells me she didn’t have a problem with her own femininity.
In her response to Williams’ criticism, Ollivier says “For many sociocultural reasons there has always been more complicity between men and women in France than in Anglo-Saxon cultures, and that complicity breeds a different kind of woman.” She also said, “French feminism didn’t play out the way it did in Britain, and was not nearly as militant as it was in the US – no British or American feminist could declare what French feminist Sylviane Agacinski once did: ‘We want the power to seduce and be seduced. There will never be a war of the sexes in France’.” Vincent is right. Again.
Ultimately, the difference is not that French women are sexier; it’s that they aren’t afraid to be sexy. It’s not their clothes, or shoes, or lingerie. It’s not scarves! American women wear body-language burkas that hide their sexuality and French girls don’t. When you’re here, compare the French girls and the American women tourists; the way they move and hold themselves. Maybe you’ll be able to discern what I’m talking about.
French men devour women with their eyes. Many anglo-saxons would find this offensive and sexist. But why shouldn’t men enjoy the scenery? A thing of beauty is a thing of beauty, after all. And we are animals. Don’t you look at men?
When I first moved to Paris, I admit the frank gazes of French men made me a little uncomfortable. In the States, men are more discreet in their, um, appreciation. But I’m over it; when in Paris, you know… French women believe it’s natural to receive male attention and appreciation. They don’t feel invaded, insulted, demeaned, or violated when a man looks at them with undisguised delectation, the way anglo-saxon women can.
Men aren’t the enemy here and French women like being women.
A recent article in the Paris Match reviewed another of these “sexy French girl” books called So Chic, by Helena Frith-Powell. My Parisian girlfriend gave me her take on the article:
The article in Paris Match stated that this author was either blind or crazy. You finish the book thinking that la boulangère [baker lady] wears sexy garters under her apron and that any RMIste [person receiving social assistance] meets her lover in a hotel between 5 and 7 every day. Myth building all the way. I suppose people want to hear that sort of lies. They will be soooo disappointed.
Personally, I think the truth lies somewhere between the stereotype and what my girlfriend says…
For those of you still struggling to put your finger on that elusive différence, here are some more books about les françaises. I haven’t read any of them. I’m sure they’re mostly fluff and stereotypes, although you may encounter the occasional near truth. In any case, I’m sure they’re fun to read.
French Women Don’t Get Fat and French Women for All Seasons, by Mireille Guiliano
All You Need to be Impossibly French, by Helena Frith-Powell. This is the title of the American edition of the book. Interestingly, the original title was Two Lipsticks and a Lover…
That should tell you something! The first step towards getting sexier: lose the hang ups.
