Paris Was Ours Read Online Free Page B

the sexes has even broader implications. An Englishman friend—a BBC filmmaker—whom I asked what he noticed that was different in Frenchwomen, said, “Well, they look right at you. English girls never do, they’re so mousy and meek.” Ah, I thought, that’s because they don’t want to be accused of being hussies or asking to be harassed. The concept of the “loose woman” doesn’t seem to exist in France, though that of the femme fatale does and is altogether approved of. The higher status of women in France, including old women, becomes clear in French restaurants, where it’s common to see an elderly woman in chic clothes dining by herself at a good table, with a good bottle of wine and the attention of waiters; elderly women in the United States or England are somewhat abject and tend to stay out of the way or stick together.
    Because of confidence, a Frenchwoman wouldn’t assume that a male colleague is harassing her when he says, “You look great today.” Think of the recent case in Africa, where a houseguest was raped by a government minister who said he misread her signals because she crossed her legs. In some parts of America, it’s unfortunately still true that a rape victim can be said to have been “asking for it” if she was wearing a low-cut dress or had ever had intercourse before.
    Frenchwomen seem to have more confidence as mothers, bolstered by the approval of society if they work, helped out by the fine crèches and nursery schools—unlike in the UnitedStates or England, where we are victims of the covertly Germanic
Kinder, Kirche, Küche
ethic, however this attitude is concealed, bolstered by hectoring, guilt-producing “experts” who foster the idea that an Anglo-Saxon mother dare not leave her child for ten seconds. The result: French children are civil, equable, and pleasant to have around, no complexes.
    Frenchwomen don’t have a better take on everything, certainly not. There’s the matter of the red hair, for instance. Why do they dye their hair a red that has never been seen in nature? (And certainly never seen in the English-speaking world. I imagine there’s an explanation obscured by the mists of time—perhaps it was the admired hair color of a royal mistress of the seventeenth century, or Edith Piaf or someone.) It probably isn’t the influence of a current movie star, for the French seem relatively indifferent to celebrities (their most famous rock star, Johnny Hallyday, is now in his sixties), as if it is easier to designate someone and just keep him, instead of doing as we do: constantly dumping famous person A in favor of the new person B, to be dumped in her turn. When I travel to the United States or to England, I’m always baffled by the change in celebrities: Who is Brangelina? Who is Katie? The people in the headlines always seem new from a few weeks before.
    Anyhow, some generalizations are possible: The famous English skin really is better (and in all ethnic groups), which must be from the relative lack of sun; French women still broil themselves on beaches and in tanning salons. (Nobody seems to have told them cigarettes confer wrinkles.) Mostly, French hair is short, much shorter than ours. In America, lotsof people don’t dye their hair, and turn white early; in France, hardly anybody turns gray that you can see, and everyone over forty is a blond. Weight: Yes, the French aren’t as fat, certainly not as fat as Americans, and not being fat affects everything else—for instance, wardrobe. When you have a girlish figure you can wear girlish clothes. My own theory is that the French diet has far fewer carbohydrates in it—but it also has smaller portions. The French walk more (but not more than in London, I wouldn’t think), and they certainly don’t eat between meals. But also, their attitude toward food is different from ours. It’s not a reward; it’s a subject of study and appreciation. Coming from a culture dedicated to keeping sweets away from