The real story of French elegance : French provincials and fashion challenged Parisians

A true Parisian friend (in fact, more like she considers herself as one, having worked in fashion related business…she comes like many others in Paris from outside Paris) once told me that the fashion gurus could say this and that color as the color of the year, but a true Parisian will always wear black (especially for events and soirées). I find indeed black the best not only because it is always an ‘in’ color whether you’re in Paris, London or Melbourne, but also because it is quite versatile, less likely to get dirtied quickly and make you less fat and old all around. So, naturally, in my quest in becoming a true Parisien I load up on Parisien black things (I have actually always dressed in black, though probably wear clothes that are less tight than now). I love Et Vous jeans (store in Etienne Marcel) though not cheap, are very well cut to make you élégant in jeans. I also love Agnes b. t-shirts, sweaters etc. because they fit your body right and tight, short (they never cover your bottom) and yet have sleeves that are long (essential for that sophisticated and modern look…well, ok, also to look younger than you are).
But before you bring all your nice clothes with you to visit Paris, thinking that everyone is élégant and sophisticated, here’s a true story to make us all feel better (or in a true Parisien delight : to make us feel Superior). I am talking about, of course, French who are not Parisians and those fashion-challenged Parisians.

Everywhere outside Paris could be called the province (literally : provinces, with implications that the people there are provicial ?). I visited the very nice région of Bretagne (Britanny) and was more than mildly surprised by the people there. These people do not look like they shop in Agnes b. or les Galeries Lafayette…indeed, they look decidedly JC Penney’s ! This threw me off a bit, as I have the stereotype that the French is fashionable. They are so far away from my image of France and the French that I felt like I was visiting a foreign country. These people certainly are not afraid of colors or patterns and wear them proudly without any complex whatsoever…

Even in Paris, there are those whom I refer to as the fashion challenged. Try as they might with all the good intention in the world, they just never got the look right. Instead of looking sexy and alluring, they look vulgar…instead of looking minimalist, they look cheap…instead of looking individualist, they look like they failed at copying someone presentable. A young woman I know was, fashion-ly speaking, a total disaster – despite Paris bought clothes that she chooses according to Paris fashion magazines, well, she put them on and she still looks like she just got off the train from the deep province.

I guess stereotypes exert powerful expectations. With stereotypes, we notice those who confirm the stereotype (I notice the élégant Parisians), do not notice those inconsistent with the stereotype (I do not notice those Parisians who are not so élégant), though I may indeed notice indeed those who disconfirm the stereotype (I notice Parisians who look like they buy their wardrobe in a flea market in Bucharest) but tend to make explanations to discount them and keep my stereotype intact (they are poor, they are not really Parisians, they have been hit in the head and suffered brain injury). So, I still think of Parisiens as elegant, well dressed etc. I guess I should understand why my Paris friends still think of Australians and Americans as somewhat bad dressers despite the plethora of fashionable Australian and American friends that I have paraded in front of them.