Bonjour, ça va ?
I had intended to send this newsletter to mark Valentine’s Day but malheureusement life threw a few spanners in the works and I haven’t been able to put pen to paper. Ongoing world events have also left me feeling a bit wobbly, my daily life a bit hopeless next to the never-ending vortex of negativity that seems to have swept the world off its feet. I know I’m not alone in feeling this way—and the show must go on—so I hope my newsletter can bring a little levity and a lot of love in these strange, strange times!
Valentine’s Day or not, Paris is the City of Love and passionate stories of rencontres amoureuses with the French never cease to enthral foreigners. Travel memoirs of Anglo-Saxons tombant amoureux with a French person are a guaranteed best seller (I’m yet to see one on the thrills of dating an Australian, sadly.) It’s also a dating scene that’s punctuated with ridiculous stereotypes and clichés: of affairs, of ménage à trois, of expensive champagne and rose petals, of premature declarations of love, of hopelessly romantic French men and women.
As I have been in a relationship with an Italian for the past couple of years, I decided to hand la parole over to my Australian expat friends to see if the stereotypes stand true—to find out first-hand what it’s like to date in Paris in the 21st Century. Whilst they all agreed the cliché of overwhelming romance was well and truly alive, they each (neatly) tallied on three defining points of the dating scene: directness, openness, and nakedness.
Direct, open, and naked
The to-remain-unnamed participants of my survey unanimously agreed that the French were sharpshooters when it came to dating—there was no beating around the bush when it came to their intentions. Unlike in Australia, where there exists an inanely drawn-out tiered system of dating (a ‘thing’ may progress into months of ‘seeing someone’ before a couple may decide that they are finally in a committed, exclusive relationship), dating in Paris is like a high-speed police chase: you’ve got to be in it to win it from the word go and people are quick to call each other copain/copine or proclaim je t’aime.
The literal meaning of copain is someone you share your bread with. The word is used both for friends and romantic partners which means that it is tone that reveals one’s standing. I was taught in high school that you could also say ‘petit ami/petite amie’ (literally ‘little friend’) but I have never, ever heard that used here.
One interviewee reckons they squandered a date because of a lack of follow-through: whereas in Australia it’s respectful to “leave the ball in the other person’s court,” here it is perfectly acceptable to push and push until you receive a clear response (even if it’s not the response you were hoping for). Relentless pursuit is the name of the game: there are no rules as to how long to wait before messaging or what to message. If something is on your mind, you may as well say it straight up and in however many WhatsApp messages needed (or voice notes—Europeans LOVE a voice note).
Ghosting is also a complete faux pas—the French will not take silence for an answer. A friend remarked that, in their experience, it was all too common in Australia to ignore any follow-up post an unsuccessful date. In France, however, they almost always received a lengthy explanation as to why or why not the date was successful. This has its downside though: they’d encountered “a lot of creepers who insisted on being actual friends or seeing each other again.” Another friend tried to ghost a French person who then insisted on an explanation. They were not trying to rekindle the flame, they simply wanted to know why my friend wanted to end things—and that was that.
When it comes to PDA, there is no holding back in the City of Love. One friend politely remarked that “there is a very positive attitude towards kissing” in Paris, whilst another put it bluntly: “everyone is always making out everywhere.” Cringingly, the French still seem to be flogging the most-clichéd pick-up line of all time—“have you ever had a real French kiss before?”—around the dating circuits of Paris, but I guess it seems to be working for them.
On that note, many friends commented that the French they’d dated were not afraid to whip their kits off early on, even on the first date. Several had stories of turning up to a home-cooked dinner date, only to find the other person was already butt-naked. I suspect this says more about my friends’ choice of romantic partners than a cultural trope, but I guess it is in keeping with the directness of dating here. People are very clear about whether they want just sex or something more which puts you in a healthy position to decide whether you want to engage or not.
I guess all this is to say that it’s funny how we can have such differing conventions around something as universal as love and romance. Neither culture is right or wrong. And at the end of the day, the stereotype holds true: the French just love love <3
As I mentioned before, memoirs of expats falling in love with a French person are dime-a-dozen and the best of them make for great beach lit or armchair travel. They are my guilty reading pleasure so here are a few I’d recommend
Almost French by Sarah Turnbull – the CLASSIC I-fell-in-love-with-a-Frenchman memoir. It’s a well-written and fun read.
The Secret Life of France by Lucy Wadham – this poor lady seemed to stumble into every cliché of dating a French person but what I enjoy in this book is how she leads personal anecdote into larger cultural commentary.
Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris – it’s tough to be a funny writer but all of Sedaris’ work has me weeping with laughter. The second half of this book is dedicated to his experience of relocating to Paris with his French partner and is full of rib-tickling anecdotes of expat life. As an amuse-bouche, here is an essay for The New Yorker in which he muses on the advantages of speaking French.
Paris to the Moon by Adam Gopnik – A collection of essays by The New Yorker writer Adam Gopnik of his personal experience relocating to Paris. It’s not axed on romance, but Gopnik was the original Paris correspondent à la French Dispatch and he is such an observant and sensitive writer that this collection deserves to be included.
Est-ce que tu veux sortir avec moi?
One final thing my friends all agreed on is that the French love a proper date—there’s no meeting at the pub for a casual bev here. Even on a first rencontre, they are known to propose a sit-down dinner, which has its pros and cons: you have the time to get to know someone, but it’s hard to escape if things aren’t going smoothly.
So this week, instead of wine suggestions, I paroled my friends for date ideas. The general consensus was somewhere with a bar, tapas-style share plates, and little noise. Please note that these suggestions are perfect for any kind of date: romantic, friendly, or solo. It is very common to dine alone in Paris and I am a huge proponent of treating oneself to a good meal (preferably with a good book in hand) because, in the wise words of Diane Von Furstenberg in the MTV classic series The City,
“the most important relationship in your life is the relationship you have with yourself.”
Amen, DvF.
L’Avant comptoir de la mer / L’Avant comptoir de la terre - 3, Carrefour de l’Odeon 75006
Two wine bars from legendary chef Yves Camborde. As the names suggest, one serves seafood, the other serves meat. Luckily they are located right next to each other so you can decide on the spot what you’re in the mood for—or hop between the two.
Bar Principal - 5, rue du Général Renault 75011
The wine bar of Brutos (and located just next door). The biggest appeal of this place is its ample outdoor seating.
La Buvette - 67, rue Saint Maur 75011
A hallmark of the Paris natural wine scene, this teeny tiny bar has the most delicious share plates but be warned—space is very limited. It strangely feels both intimate and crowded at the same time.Frenchie Bar à Vin - 6, rue du Nil 75002
As the younger sibling of Michelin-starred restaurant Frenchie (which is across the road), this is a real treat-yourself (or someone else) venue. The vibe is more subdued than the aforementioned places (in a good way!) and the portions of the share plates are sizeable enough to make a proper meal of it.Montezuma Café - 15, rue Notre Dame des Victoires 75002
Great wine, great food, AND relatively quiet (apart from nights when they have live music so check their Instagram). Perfect if you’re going on a date with someone as inaudible as myself or if you just prefer the sounds of silence (also like myself).Le Mary Celeste - 1, rue Commines 75003
A beloved institution in the heart of the Marais with consistently good food and cocktails. Bar seating as well as cosy nooks. Order the deviled eggs!
Le Dauphin - 131, ave Parmentier 75011
The tapas bar offshoot of Le Chateaubriand. You can choose to sit at the bar or along the wall, opting for as much or as little privacy as you want to nibble the night away. (This is also one of my favourite lunch spots!)
A la prochaine!