Francophilia

I don’t have it. I love the language, but have no overwhelming desire to learn it. Love the movies, but have never worshiped the French “look” you hear so much about – the simple skirt and top, made to look fantastic by just the right belt, scarf and bag. To my American-trained eye, it’s always seemed a tad overdone. No one loves, or is more amused by, our uniquely American qualities that I. Our open-hearted (some would say intrusive) friendliness. Our too-loud laughter.  Our indifference to pedigree. Our inability to learn the metric system.

 There’s a book out by Jennifer L. Scott, called “Madame Chic: The Top 20 Things I Learned While Living in Paris.” Ms. Scott was an exchange student some ten years ago, living with a very wealthy, formal French family, and in this book, she describes the family’s exquisite lifestyle, which had very little to do with money, and everything to do with style and a commitment to excellence.

The tone of the book could be summed up in this paragraph: “Once you commit to living a life of quality, your discernment will infuse every aspect of your life. You will be more selective of the foods you choose to eat, the fabrics on the clothes that you wear, the way you choose to spend your time. You are less likely to binge on fast food – to hastily purchase an inferior article of clothing just because it was on sale – or sit for hours in front of the TV while your life slips away.”

 There is a temptation to jeer at such sentiments.  Really, who has the time to shop at the market every day and cook a four-course meal?  Or buy only ten very well-cut, super expensive items of clothing, and wear them interchangeably throughout the season? 

 Still, something about this book grabbed me.  The author describes getting up in the middle of the night for a drink of water and running into “Madame Chic,” the matriarch, who could scarcely believe what the girl was wearing – an old T-shirt and a pair of sweat pants with a hole in the knee.  Dismayed, she asked “Jennifer, why would you wear that?”  Jennifer realized she had no answer, but made an immediate decision to purchase some simple cotton nightgowns.  It’s all about Doing Things Properly. There is a description of the family’s living room, which is beautifully but subtly appointed, with a very old, seldom-used television at the back of the room.  Madame and her family had far better things to do than watch TV: dine together, give dinner parties, play board games, read.

 Perhaps the chapter that had the biggest impact on me was “The Clutter-Free Home.” The Chic family lived by the old saw “A place for everything, and everything in its place.”  No one came in the front door and threw the keys or the purse on the dining room table.  Closet space was tight, sometimes only a wardrobe, and items of clothing were mercilessly pared down to only perfect-fitting and quality items – no compromising. 

 I actually read this book about three weeks ago, and started to blog about it while at the height of infatuation.  I decided to give it a while, and see if it made a lasting impression.  Here are the changes I’ve made since then:  I went through my closet and drawers, filled two huge plastic garbage bags with throwaways and donations, and organized everything.  I cleaned out my back yard and decorated my small patio with plants and flowers.  I don’t believe I’ve left for work once without making my bed.  I recommend this book, but promise me you’ll check your cynicism at the Table of Contents.

Tonight I felt like a hard and punishing solo walk.  It was just too hot for Banks.  I went towards Stacy Park, and took five or six streets off of East Side straight up and down, all the way to Little Stacy, started backtracking, until I was almost 15 minutes out, and then headed for home. I love the way my face is hot and red at the end of these walks, and I love how I feel after a long shower.  All I’m missing now is a few proper nightgowns.  I’m going shopping this weekend.