According to author Helena Frith Powell, all you need to be a French woman are two red lipsticks and a lover.
I have the first two covered, but the last one…not so much.
Let’s back up.
When Jen (code name Delphine) asked me to be French for a week, I immediately said, “Oui, oui!” I mean, of course I’ll be French. I can eat croissants! And drink Chablis! And wear red lipstick! I can’t imagine anything more delightful. That night, I made a French cocktail, lit my favorite Trudon candle, and started making a plan.
The first thing I did was insist all my friends call me “Brigitte,” which was my name in my high school French class. After this, I purchased $250 worth of French makeup (it’s research for this post, DON’T JUDGE ME), pre-ordered $75 worth of French food from Le Pain de Quotidien for breakfast the next day, and started reading Helena Frith Powell’s book, All You Need to Be Impossibly French.
Helena’s book is wonderful. She was 12 years old when she first visited Paris, and she stayed with one of her father’s many girlfriends at the time, a “dancer come stripper” named Sophie. She writes that Sophie was in her early twenties, and Helena idolized her. One day, while Sophie was getting ready, she dropped that bomb about the two lipsticks and a lover, and Helena has never forgotten it. At this point, I put my book down, because I can eat croissants, drink wine and listen to all the French pop music I want — but finding a lover? That’s going to take a lot longer than a week.
Since I have no idea how to meet a man anymore, I asked my Friday night gals on Zoom for some advice. Here’s what they had to say:
Jen/Delphine: How do you find a lover? Shit, I don’t know. The last time I found a lover was 30 years ago, and all I did was be easy and wear a turtleneck that made my boobs look good.
Gina: Dress well and go to a bar where rich men hang out, midday.
Lisa: Yes, get a twilly and tie it around your neck.
Lee (Gina’s husband): Go to Whole Foods and make eyes at guys in the produce department.
Joanna: Put an ad in the newspaper.
Alyson: Go to Gelson’s and put up a sign on the community board.
Okay, first, I don’t wear turtlenecks, don’t know what a twilly is, and no man has ever looked at me twice in a grocery store. And a newspaper? What is this, 1998? And hanging a sign on the Gelson’s community board saying I’m looking for a lover sounds like a good way to get banned from my favorite grocery store.
At the end of the night, we decided that I should post something on the Next Door app saying that I’m looking to take a French lover in the neighborhood. Jen recommended I title it ‘Free Sex,’ which sounded like a good idea at the time, but as I type it now, I see that it’s not. (WINE.)
Despite not having a concrete plan, I set out on Saturday to see what kind of fun I could drum up. I wore a simple black outfit, flats, and some bright red lipstick, and went to Tartine. I ordered a croissant and a cappuccino, and sat outside and smiled at every man who walked by me.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Meet the Mess to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.