CHAPTER TWO

The French Art of Reimaging

Know, first, who you are, and then adorn yourself accordingly.

—EPICTETUS

TONIGHT, I AM WITH MY FRIEND ALOÏS AT the terrace of Le Hibou, a restaurant off of l’Odéon where we are enjoying champagne cocktails, a fruity mix with a little paper umbrella for decoration. Aloïs is a personal stylist and the creator of one of my favorite blogs, Dress Like a Parisian. Aloïs is twenty-nine years old and today, I would say she’s dressed on the rock-’n’-roll side: her hair is short with longish bangs and she’s wearing skinny jeans and biker boots.

Aloïs has a master’s degree in law and a fashion degree from La Mode. When I ask her about this idea I have about how our personal and family history influences our style, she tells me that even when people are poorly dressed, there is still “a trail” of who they are. “If you really notice things, you can get a sense of it.”

On the topic of fashion and style, Aloïs gives me a brief history lesson.

“Women in the 1950s wore matching things—hats, shoes, bags, and scarves. In those days, there was no real ‘youth’ trend, and women went from being a kid to being a grown-up. In the sixties, fashion for young people appeared, and along with that, more freedom. People still match, but it’s important to be more complicated, more creative.”

I ask her about her clients and what sort of woman seeks her out for a consultation. Aloïs sips thoughtfully on her drink and then looks up at me. “When women come to see me, they’re really open to trying new things. It’s a transformational story. A sixty-year-old French woman came to see me a couple of years ago. Honestly, it’s not really part of the French culture to consult a stylist and spend money on something they should already know.”

I nod my head. I had never realized that there is a certain burden on the French woman by way of reputation. If she’s supposed to know all the beauty and style secrets from just being French, then I guess it is difficult to ask for help. That’s one thing, as an American, I am not shy about. So perhaps we are lucky in this regard.

Aloïs continues her story about the French client. “At first, I thought she looked like a nice grandma. Cute. I listened to her and paid full attention. She wore mossy green, but other than that, no real color. She was size forty-two, but had always been a size thirty-six.”

(Just as an aside, a forty-two is a US twelve and a thirty-six is a US size six.)

Aloïs gestures to show me the woman’s size. “Her body is well balanced. Not fat at all. Then she tells me she was a thirty-six all her life, but had cancer and stopped working for two years and then she returned to work and she felt like an old woman. She feels she cannot be seductive to her husband again.

“I rented a private room at Bon Marché. When she arrived, she had on an outfit with small prints. There was a lot going on.” She shakes her head in dismay. “And nothing going on! I picked out some skinny jeans. She has a flat belly. It’s very good. But she has a pear shape and says, I cannot wear skinny jeans! And I show her that they actually make her hips look small.”

Aloïs describes how in addition to picking out a pair of dark blue skinny jeans, she chose a pair of suede boots in a caramel color with a little heel, a very simple silky top in a cream color with a V neck, and a gold pendant necklace. “It was a really minimal look. She looks at herself in the mirror and cries. She has pale blue eyes. Now she looks like she’s in her fifties, modern, energetic.” Aloïs gives me a meaningful look and finishes her story with a note of triumph. “I got her to try Stan Smith limited-edition sneakers—the most popular ones in black with white soles. With the skinny jeans and a coat—it’s hip and minimalistic. She thanked me later and said, my sneakers were such a success at the office!”

I ask Aloïs where all this interest in fashion and style came from. She tells me her mother had a major influence on her life and always bought her nice clothes, but not necessarily what the other little French girls were wearing at the time.

“Even though I was a baby when I outgrew things quickly, my mother still bought quality. I remember when I was six years old, I loved an old purple outfit with a T-shirt and a little skirt with white fringe. I wore it with a matching cardigan. The other girls in my school were wearing teddy bear leggings, but my mom got me jeans with a shirt and suspenders. It was very boyish, and not girly. Because of my mother I never wore stupid teddy bears and flowers!”

The evening winds down and Aloïs talks a little about her love life. Surprisingly, she is on Tinder and has lots to say about the men she meets online. First of all, they go from online to real time very quickly. And second of all, she only meets with the men who are good writers, send clever messages, and have a sense of humor and intelligence.

It’s dark now, and the Left Bank has come alive with Parisians and tourists out for the evening. Aloïs and I stand at the crosswalk of the Rue de Condé. The streets and the cafés and bistros are now crowded. She stops at the Vélib’ rack and retrieves her bike while giving me a running stream of advice for my readers. “It’s important to recognize the value of the work of people who make fashion. Stop buying cheap stuff!” And then she gives me a little smile. “Okay, the occasional H&M is fine. But go for quality. Support the artisians and good workmanship!”

I nod my head as she gets on her Vélib’ bike and pulls on a pair of chic leather gloves. Next, she adjusts her shoulder bag. “And if you don’t have the money, then be creative. Mix vintage with new.” She is about to pedal onto the boulevard. “Never be too feminine, too girly. Never be too complicated. Too obvious. Never look like you’re trying. But you must try!”

When it comes to style, try not to look as if you’re trying too hard. But still, try you must!

She looks at me with a pout. “And no logos! Okay, the occasional logo is fine, just don’t cover yourself in logos!”

I want to tell her that I don’t wear logos, and I feel the sudden desire to defend all my American compatriots who have ever worn a logo, but my Parisian friend is gone into the black of night.

THE HOLLYWOOD CONNECTION

I am still trying to process my evening with Aloïs the next day when I meet with Rhonda Richford. Rhonda is the American correspondent in Paris for The Hollywood Reporter and she’s been happily living in Paris for several years now. We have met for lunch at Café le Buci and she’s brought her foster dog, who sits politely at her feet by our outdoor table. Rhonda tells me she is obsessed with a hot pink Ted Baker coat. She shows me a photo of the coat in question on her iPhone. “I have to have this,” she proclaims. I must admit, it’s beautiful, and I now want one, too.

And then, before the salads even arrive, I ask her about my conversation with Alöis. “How is it that French women have all this confidence about style? Where do they get it?” And then, I add, “And more important, how can we get that confidence?!”

Rhonda is a stylish gal, and I can see that in the time I first met her a few years ago, when she had just arrived in Paris, she has been truly transformed. In fact, she seems more stylish and more confident, so obviously Paris has worked its magic on her. Today, she is wearing skinny jeans and her jet-black hair is pulled back into a flawless chignon.

“They have all that history,” Rhonda tells me. “They’ve been thinking about this for centuries. Plus, they’re surrounded by all these beautiful old buildings and all that tradition. If we destroy our historical roots, our old buildings, the traditions, if we hide away the aged, we erase the past and we erase our own truth, our heritage. The French understand this.”

• • •

STILL, THIS IS A REALITY for many of us. We walk around our cities and towns—or often, drive quickly by—and we don’t really see or appreciate our own history. Our old buildings have been torn down and replaced by new ones, or shopping centers or office parks, and somehow the metaphorical bread crumbs that should help us find our way back to our ancestral home have been nibbled away by ravenous birds. And even if things aren’t as bad as this may sound, we are still at a disadvantage in terms of our sense of style.

What to do? Rhonda suggests we read about our own culture. “Watch old movies,” she insists. She is a Hollywood girl, after all. “Study the past, but don’t try to be French! Look at your own culture and personal history for style.”

I love this idea, because if each of us truly knows and understands where we come from and what our style origins might be, then there is no need for comparison, or competition or jealousy, because each of us can take our own unique path. That could mean wearing cowboy boots from Texas. It could mean your first boyfriend’s white shirt. It could mean our grandmother’s hats, redesigned for a modern look. Perhaps it’s a Shetland sweater your cousin wore or a sari your college friend only wore for special occasions. Your style could be influenced by the ’60s, when you were obsessed with the Carnaby Street and the London mod look. Perhaps your key to style comes from your father’s suits and ties, or your older brother’s grunge style.

Rhonda tells me that I need to look up Nancy Cunard, a British heiress who came to Paris in the 1920s. She’s best known for her multitude of wrist bangles from Africa. Man Ray famously photographed her wearing them and she became known as the queen of the jazz age, and she was truly a muse to modernism.

She published literary anthologies and traveled to New York City, where she met many of the African-American writers of the Harlem Renaissance.

Nancy Cunard has influenced many fashionable women such as Iris Apfel, a style icon and one of the stars in the Advanced Style documentary, and the star of her own documentary, Iris. These days, many young fashionistas follow her, perhaps not even realizing that she is a fashion descendent of Nancy Cunard, and that Nancy Cunard’s look can be traced back to Harlem, circa 1920, and before that, Africa.

Our style evolves out of a conversation we are constantly having through time and place and many generations. It’s how we communicate through visual and sensory cues. Perhaps you can no longer ask your grandmother, but I think it’s important to face the fact that by a certain age, you have stepped into the role of mentor, and it’s your turn to inspire and to pick up the conversation. Start to be aware of the history you reference and how much you actually do influence the men and women and children and grandchildren around you.

This is the stuff of life. When you wear that silver lamé dress or those John Lennon–inspired eyeglasses, you are giving others permission to be free to express their deepest selves. And this leads to a kind of quiet confidence that is irresistibly captivating. You become charming and beguiling simply through the unspoken language of dress, style, and personal history. You walk through the streets as a woman with a rich and mysterious past.

YOU’RE IN THE NAVY NOW

Later that week, while visiting Toulouse, still thinking about what Rhonda and Alïos said, I discovered an unlikely style inspiration—a French naval officer’s jacket. I found it in a little vintage shop called Le Grenier d’Anäis, on Rue Peyrolières, not too far from the Place du Capital.

When I first walked into the store, I imagined that there wasn’t anything in the shop that I would want to buy. But as a longtime devotee to vintage, I know that’s how vintage shopping tends to be. It’s generally hit or miss. You find everything you’ve always wanted or you find nothing at all. I assumed this shop was going to be a miss. Still, I wandered around the main floor, looking through dresses from the ’50s, ’60s, and ’70s, hats, pocketbooks, scarves. But no, there was nothing that caught my eye. And then I climbed up the stairs and circled around the balcony, and just as I was about to give up, I saw them: a row of genuine never-been-worn French Navy jackets. Those French Navy officers must not be all that big, because I found one that fit me perfectly. And I’m five foot two!

Okay, I understand—to you, this might sound not at all appealing. A French Navy jacket? You’re puzzled. Ah, but to me, this jacket feels as if my entire childhood has been handed to me in blue gabardine, brass buttons, and gold ribbons. My father was a lieutenant commander in the navy. I have lots of photos of him wearing his officer’s jacket. My mother and father met at a USO dance at Yale University in the middle of World War II while my father was in the V-12 officer-training program. When I was growing up, every Monday night my father put on his navy jacket with the brass buttons, shined his shoes, got his hat, and left to teach at the Naval Reserve.

So for me, this jacket is representative of my own personal history. This jacket makes me happy. I am honoring my family’s past, and especially my father. Wearing it, I feel more fully myself, like I’m sending the world a sly message about who I am.

EVERYONE LOVES A GAL IN A UNIFORM

Later, back in Paris, I discover that my naval jacket is a regular man magnet! Everywhere I go, men stop me and ask about the jacket. French men are especially enamored and want to know what rank my jacket is. As it turns out, it’s a commander’s jacket. My dad was a lieutenant commander, but hey, close enough!

The point is, you might be surprised to discover where your style references come from. They may just be right in front of you, or in your old photos, or in a vintage shop. Pay attention to how a particular article of clothing makes you feel. If something brings you a moment of joy, makes you smile or laugh or even cry—well, pay attention to that. There’s a personal message hidden in this emotion, just for you, mon amie.

At a certain age, you step into the role of mentor. Enjoy this delicious phase of life.

Oh, and if your jacket or skirt or hat or shoes make men notice—pay attention to that, too!

The truth is, when it comes to finding our sense of authentic beauty, as Americans, we have an interesting challenge. We live in a country filled with a variety of cultures, religions, and experiences. Each region has its own personality and history. This is one of the most wonderful, inspiring, and delightful things about America. But, when it comes to focusing in on your special beauty, your unique look—it can be confusing. There is no one “American look.” And so I believe that we would be much better served if we look at our own family and ancestors for inspiration. Begin the process of finding your unique look by poring over old family photographs. Talk to your parents, your grandparents. Consider not just what looks good on you, but what makes you feel happy and confident.

So, how do you answer the question, Who am I?

Your body is your own personal terroir.

Actually, it’s not as difficult as it sounds. The answer lies somewhere in your body. Your body is your own personal terroir. This is a word the French use in winemaking to describe all the factors that give a wine a particular character, such as the angle of the sun, the composition of the soil and temperature of the air, the nature of the climate. The truth is, you have your own personal terroir, as well. It’s the place where you were born and includes your deepest memories and a million little things that you can’t quite fathom, such as how the clouds looked on your fifth birthday or the aroma of your mother’s tomato sauce on the stove. It’s that feeling of running across the green grass on your way to go to school. It’s the time you tried on your first pair of high heels. It’s the night you won first place in the science fair. It’s that moment when you tried on your mother’s evening gown and her black patent-leather high-heel shoes. It’s that first kiss, standing by the water tower with a boy named Bill.

Parisian Charm School Lesson

Ask yourself, how does a certain dress make you feel?

How does a fabric make you feel? Do you shiver a little in silk? Do you feel wistful in crinoline? Do you feel at home in flannel? And what about the color violet? And dusty rose? Are you transported to a time in the past that you only visited in a dream or saw in an old photo? Trust your instincts. Even if you don’t quite know where this feeling of familiarity and happiness comes from, trust what it is telling you.

This is your terroir.

French women will tell you that when you know who you are, you are able to become more yourself, and then you naturally and easily become more confident. When you know who you are, you are more “contained” because you are confident, and as a result, you become more mysterious.

And then, you become captivating. Charming. And you attract love and friendship into your life. It’s that simple. And yes, that complicated.

Parisian Charm School Pratique

Talk to your family about their lives and your ancestors. What would you consider to be your “birthright”? That could be as simple as the realization that your family is musical or the green-flecked eyes that you’ve inherited from your grandmother.

Go through your wardrobe and separate out what makes you happy and what makes you not so happy. Look for common themes in your clothing choices. Even if you keep buying a certain kind of blouse and you still don’t like them, ask yourself what is it about this style that fascinates you and keeps attracting you. There is information for you even as you are bringing those fashion mistakes to the Goodwill.

Take notes while you’re doing this, because as you discover your personal style, these notes with help you find important references, refine your individual taste, and build a strong foundation for creating your own unique look.

Find an old family photograph and ask yourself what relative captivates you the most. This person may be long gone, but they may be your muse. If you don’t have old family photographs, look at photographs of fashion icons, artists, writers, actors, scientists, and singers. Your style inspiration might come from unexpected places, such as a Rousseau painting of the jungle or an old matchbox illustration. And don’t limit yourself to only women. Men and animals and even robots can inspire. You may find your spark from watching vintage Star Wars again and again.

Consider what you wear and how it might make people happy and want to talk and perhaps flirt with you.

Ask yourself if you have a beautiful piece of jewelry that reveals your family history. Wear it every day for at least a month and see if you get comments.

For extra credit, try creating an unexpected combination, such as styling your hair like Andy Warhol and wear an Isadora Duncan–inspired gown. Above all, be creative and have fun.