The ‘effortless’ French put in a lot of effort
Letting you in on a secret
If there’s one word that’s become synonymous with French style and ways of living (at least from an Anglo-American perspective), it’s ‘effortless.’
Just go on Pinterest and type in ‘effortless French style’ and you’ll get hundreds of inspiration photos and how-to guides promising to make you, too, look chic and French. I have personally fallen down this rabbit hole, especially circa 2018 when I took the solo trip to Paris where I ended up meeting my French husband.
I didn’t want to stick out in the city as a tourist. So I studied the outfit formulas. I studied the hair. I wanted to unlock the code to being effortless, ironically, by engaging in obsessive research. (Nothing says ‘effortless’ like diligent studying to try to fit into a different culture, right?)
Needless to say, I didn’t unlock the code. There’s no code. Because effortlessness is a myth.
Quick disclaimer here to say that I’m clearly making some sweeping generalizations — France is a country of many cultures, many of them regionally specific, family specific, immigrant population specific, etc. These are some high-level observations based on my own experience in La France. Okay. Moving on.
After spending a lot of time in France, around French people, immersed in French culture and language, my observation is that the aesthetics of that country, from the food to the gardens to the architecture to what people wear, are all quite intentional.
I mean, nothing is more effortful than a formal, manicured French garden. In most of Paris’s green spaces, you’re not even allowed to walk on the grass. It’s a thing.
French people do go on diets, despite much reporting to the contrary, and they do pass on bread, cheese, and dessert when they choose.
The language is extremely difficult, and most native speakers have to try really hard to use it correctly (even looking verb conjugations up sometimes).
And I guarantee you there’s a lot of thought put into those seemingly effortless outfits — both at the point of purchase and when getting dressed in the morning. Selecting pieces really carefully that suit your body and personality takes the effort of restraint, self-knowledge, and confidence. Sightly undoing an outfit that’s too too takes the effort of scrutiny and decision-making. (Citing the famous Coco Chanel quote about looking in the mirror and taking one thing off. Or pushing up your blazer sleeves. Or swapping heels for sneakers. Or tying a sweater around your shoulders. Or messing up your blowout. Or what have you.)
In a food example, I recently spent a lot of time in the kitchen over the course of two days learning some French pastry techniques under the tutelage of our Ferrandi-trained pastry chef friend. I am here to tell you that a lot of effort goes into French pastry (and bread). It’s incredibly thoughtful, precise, and balanced, and it aims for perfection.
These revelations came as a relief to me, because pre-2019 I had been (I know it sounds silly) trying to achieve nice style, a nice home, and a nice life without trying. Because I thought other people could do it.
What’s with this obsession with things that come easily? Shouldn’t we, instead, celebrate commitment, patience, work, learning and evolution, putting yourself out there, persistence, intention, creative pursuit, and practice?
Can we let go of this myth of effortlessness already?
However… !
They do some things over there that are different, that I quite enjoy. (American culture has its strengths too, of course! And other countries. Sorry to be exclusive but this newsletter isn’t about those today.)
So what’s the French je ne sais quoi?
Buying stuff that’s comfortable in the first place.
Take one train trip across France and you’ll realize that people don’t dress in their pajamas to travel. But they’re also not dressed up. I don’t believe the French have any higher of a tolerance for uncomfortable clothes than anyone else — they simply dress comfortably while being put together at the same time. A loose dress, sneakers, and soft cardigan sweater isn’t any more constricting or less comfy than sweats. Same for a big cotton shirt and wide-leg trousers.
I believe that French women simply don’t buy aspirational clothes that aren’t comfortable on (for reasons of size, fabric, cut, coverage, temperature, and all the rest). They’re also disciplined about only letting things into their closets that suit them individually — not what fits the latest trend.
Living with old stuff.
I think, a lot of times, we think something is effortless when what we’re really noticing is patina. The scuffs on much-loved sneakers, the softness of a pair of jeans after many washes. Worn marble, cracked tiles floors. French people don’t buy new stuff nonstop or believe that something looks better because it’s new. In fact, wearing brand-new things makes you feel less at ease because you’re worried about damaging them, and that discomfort shows in your demeanor.
Spending time in public places.
Not just in the big cities, but in small towns in France, there’s more of a see-and-be-seen culture. You sit in cafés facing out to the sidewalk. For better and for worse, there’s less of a remote work culture so you’re going to a workplace every day. You do a lot of train travel. You do your grocery shopping in open-air markets or in and out of multiple small shops on foot. (Side bar, my husband has just reminded me that no one is more high-effort than French market vendors. Le marché doesn’t just happen to be beautiful! A bunch of people are working very hard to make it so.)
Being okay with being noticed.
I find middle-aged and elderly women in France so elegant and compelling. Women of all ages and life stages in France expect to be noticed and admired out in public. This is more a sense I have than any hard proof. It’s not about addressing and complimenting a stranger outright; that’s considered very weird behavior. But there’s a sense that people on the street are noticing each other and drawing inspiration. I think people out and about in France are conscious of being aesthetic objects, at home among the aesthetically rich country they live in.
What do you think, am I on to something? French people, expats, and travelers to France, let me know in the comments where I’ve nailed it and where I’ve missed the mark.
Enough of my pontificating, let’s get to the recommendations!
Keeping with the theme, here are the first five of my favorite French products that popped into my brain.
Cropped cardigan with super pretty gold buttons (can’t decide whether I like the black or ivory better)
Hand wash and hand cream that smell like the South of France *shop small
Deeply pigmented pinky-nude lipstick
Classic straw French market basket *shop small
The ideal oversized button-down shirt
La clochette is French for ‘the bell’ by the way. You’ve probably figured that out by now.
Hope you’re having a great week!
xx Jane
This newsletter includes a few affiliate links. I like to shop small and don’t exclusively feature brands that are part of an affiliate program, so not all links will earn me a commission. But some will! If you plan to buy something featured in this newsletter, using my link will help support the time and love I put into writing these for you. I appreciate your support so much!
I definitely had an "effortless Parisian chic" phase in college, though I've fortunately dropped the more cringe parts of that era over the years. One thing I absolutely learned is that "effortless" style takes quite a lot of work! France is still on my list of places to visit, so I appreciate this post. (and hopefully more to come)
Yes! I’ve learned to admire the things that take practice and skill honed over time so much more than the things that are effortless, in all aspects of life ☺️