To preface, the most feminine article of clothing owned by the girl writing this is probably a neon pink sports bra purchased at Sports Authority. While I may know the dimensions of the latest Adidas cleat, if you ask me about Dolce and Gabbana products I’ll likely start listing ice cream flavors. But considering I’m residing in the country that produces the perfume samples you snatch from magazines in line at Walgreens, and the brands your fake purses try so hard to emulate, I guess it’s accurate to say I’m trying to add a little more flair than just deodorant to my daily morning routine.
It’s pretty evident that people here take care to look ‘put
together’ upon leaving the security of their homes. No, no one struts 8-inch
stilettos with UFO-shaped hats and army-patterned swimwear… Tyra, PLEASE. But
you won’t see the typical American state-school fashion of grey sweatpants
topped with a grey hoodie and a grey headband slicking back a ponytail (or a
purple headband if you’re feelin’ frisky).
As someone with the life philosophy of “comfort first,” I’ll
admit I did feel a bit abashed when disgracefully pairing Old Navy flip-flops
with black leggings on my first day of class (brown thongs at that!) Ever
since, I’ve determined to understand what exactly makes the French so gosh-darn
fashionable.
It only took about a week of creepin’ for the Nancy Drew in me
to compile a list of essential facts about la
mode francophone. Here is just the beginning of my research:
1.
All articles of clothing suitable for daywear must
have collars and cuffs (i.e. dress-shirts, blazers). Everything else is considered
improper, scandalous and unfit for public (t-shirts for the bedroom ONLY!)
2.
Acceptable colors to wear include: black, navy
blue and black.
3.
All other colors can only be displayed if paired
with one of the colors above.
4.
Did you forget your Longchamp purse?
5.
If you’re wearing running shoes… you might as
well run back to America.
A friend offered advice on putting together a tolerable
outfit: the great rule of three. That means no more than three colors, no more than three
accessories, and definitely no more than three sprays of Miss Dior perfume no matter how badly you want to be like Natalie
Portman on those sexy billboards.
Upon hearing this insight, the answer to French fashion
suddenly dawned on me: simplicity. AKA
to look good… stick to the basics. The words ‘chic,’ ‘modish’ and ‘classy’ are
all just fancy ways of saying, “avoid looking tacky.”
I peered around me with epiphanic excitement, nodding at
each individual beside me who supported my theory: blue jeans, black flats,
black blazer, the occasional red sweater (oh wait, that’s just the poodles).
But understanding this philosophy of elegant apparel has not
convinced me to fully convert. Yes, I
think it’s pretty impressive that my language teacher can pull off glamorous in grey pants and a grey
cardigan, or that you will never spot a French male whose shoes and belt color
don’t match. But at the same time it feels a bit like Toby McGuire in
Pleasantville, devoid of color and any wildness (or is that Toby in every
movie?). I fear that if I leave the house wearing my favorite color yellow
paired with (would I dare?!) green khakis, I may be flogged in the middle of
the town square. Or even deported, if caught with my hello kitty belt.
In conclusion, I’ve been trying this whole 'limit to three'
rule (for clothing only, not food) while maintaining a bit of ‘Ashley’ in my
daily look, whether that be pigtails, my Nike knapsack or a chocolate stain on
my pants. And you know what? I think it’s working, because my mother (whose
opinion matters most) told me over skype that I didn’t need to be eating all
those macaron cookies just to look French, that I’m fine (and better off) just
the way I am.
