04
Cultivating a Parisienne State of Mind
I was ready. For months before I embarked on my first trip to the Paris in my dreams, I had thoroughly researched what to wear in Paris, purchased items that copied the looks, and carefully packed more options than needed. The trench, the smart jackets and cardigans, the white button-down, the cool jeans, and the fashionable sneakers, loafers, and flats. Probably more than a few scarves, and of course, a couple of totes and several bags. Simple jewelry rounded out the looks. Voilà!
Wandering around the streets, I happily noted that I did indeed look more like a Parisienne than some of the other tourists (I promise, you can spot them quite easily). And, when I was mistaken as a Parisian in stores, it was a supreme compliment that I took very seriously. I had emulated the look enough for the sales women to consider me a local? Wow!
They’d start speaking to me in rapid French, and I’d have to pull out my tried and true “Je suis désolé, non Français” line I mentioned in my Just You post. “Ahh!” they would exclaim, and then ask, “Italienne?” (another compliment). “Non, Américaine,” I’d explain. “Hm. You dress very French” they’d respond in English, waving to my outfit. These exchanges made my day.
But…as I lingered at cafes, people watching and soaking up the extraordinary Parisian sites, I realized that there was something more about these Parisiennes I admired. More than what they were simply wearing. The way she carried herself, effortlessly. Her unspoken confidence. A true sense of self that seemed to be woven through her every movement.
It made me realize: Sure, I can look like a Parisienne, but how do I feel like her? I wanted to feel the way she looks. Is this the je ne sais quoi everyone always refers to? Evidently.
What gives Parisian women the kind of confidence and self-assurance that I don’t always or readily see in American women? Why are they so famous for that je ne sais quoi? That something you can’t put your finger on precisely, but it’s fabulous.
I returned to the U.S. committed to figuring out an answer to that question. Back to my research. I read countless books, scanned more websites than I can count, and drove my friends a bit crazy with my quest.
Here’s what I found: yes, it’s the clothes and the understated makeup, but it’s also an entire mindset about self care and being worth that care every single day. There are no “Self-Care Sunday” campaigns like there are in the States. Parisiennes don’t need to be reminded. They grow up knowing that they are worthy of investing in themselves. No one has to tell them.
Self-care encompasses much more than skin care and beauty products, although those are both quite important. And, the rituals are extensive and sacred. Regular facials and massages, trips to the salon for that “I don’t care” hair, and perusing the local Pharmacies for everything they need.
It also includes lingerie. True lingerie. That matches. Silky, lacy, immaculately constructed lingerie. All for themselves. Not for the significant other(s) in their life. Just them.
Interesting. Makes sense that if you invest in yourself, just for you, with no apologies, then the kind of confidence I witnessed among Parisian women would be a genuine result. A subtle, but palpable, nonchalance that comes from knowing you merit the time and attention you’ve paid to yourself.
I was curious. Could I develop that sense of self with a new beauty routine and some fancy lingerie? For the past two years, I’ve immersed myself in this philosophy. I changed my skin care products from ones I had been using since my 20s (good grief) to items that were more in tune with my 50+ skin. Miraculous results. Same for my hair and body (the right lotion really does make a difference). I sampled numerous brands and tried various applications. I booked monthly facials and massages. Heaven.
And, I bought fancy French lingerie. Matching sets of bras and panties. That no one else knew I was wearing. Just for myself.
Did it make a difference? Absolutely. And in ways I didn’t expect. But those are stories for another blog…
My next trip to Paris includes a self-guided lingerie tour, a well-informed trip to the Pharmacie, and a cultivated Parisienne state of mind.
Au revoir until next time,
~Valerie’s Granddaughter