French Phrases to Inspire

Here’s a little French vocabulary list à ma façon useful for all seasons. It is drawn chiefly from words and concepts I have used in this book. Alas, there are no sports metaphors.  

Bien dans sa peau [byeh(n) dah(n) sah poh]: Healthy French women achieve the state of being “comfortable in one’s skin.” For all her attention to what she wears and what she eats, a French woman is most defined by her ease in being herself and the attractiveness that comes of relishing her pleasures. French women achieve this state more intuitively than most, but not everyone is successful. The secret of the woman who continues to be bien dans sa peau is that she has come to terms with enjoying each phase of her life and adjusting to life’s different seasons. Being comfortable with oneself is such an important concept that I want to share another illustration, une petite histoire.

Every year we go back to Paris for the year-end holiday season when the Christmas decorations are low-key but lovely and the museums tend to be less crowded and so much more enjoyable. One of our little traditions is that Olivier, who is an inimitable art conférencier and the brother-in-law of a friend, gathers a dozen of us at the Musée du Luxembourg at the Sénat to comment on the current art exhibition. In late 2005 and early 2006 we saw the splendid Phillips Collection (Washington, D.C.) of French art from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. The group attending varies slightly from year to year as some of us can’t always make it. For me, it’s one of those small pleasures not to be missed. Among the newcomers that year were two women over age fifty. One, Edith, was stunning: slim, full of energy but gently so, with a great haircut, a simple, long black coat, very little makeup, a sense of self-confidence, and emanating an air of serenity and douceur de vivre. Her age didn’t really matter. She had that je ne sais quoi of the mythical French woman. She had adjusted well to time and age.

The other, Claudine, was a bit plump, didn’t quite look as though she was bien dans sa peau, and in her conversation didn’t sound as if she was. She vaguely offered what I believe, that at around fifty, women have to start making choices such as cutting down on food and wine portions, increasing the number of walks and whatever exercise we do, drinking more water, getting enough sleep, and, most important, picking our indulgences . . . but also wearing less and different makeup, deciding what to do about hair color and style, and giving up certain clothes. In other words, to some extent we have to reinvent ourselves for the next season of life. Claudine knew that but didn’t practice it. Being comfortable in one’s skin is not simply a question of slim versus plump. Edith, however, knew that this season in life is also often a time for new friends, perhaps some new hobbies; the main point is to remain active, curious, enthusiastic, and optimistic. The most positive among us, like Edith, do it almost effortlessly as if one more challenge is welcome. The feeling of well-being is ever so crucial in the way we age and confront the later phases of our life. No laissez-faire. No laissez-aller.

Bio [bee-OH]: In their pursuit of quality over quantity French women increasingly select organic (or as they call them, bio foods) at markets and shops. Whether organic foods are more nutritious than regular foods is debatable; they are at least as nutritious, but for about the same price—sometimes a bit more, occasionally a bit less if they are local—they spare us ingesting chemical fertilizers and pesticides. And, of course, they are superior to processed foods. Bio is as fast a developing market in France as it is in America. But the French are a bit more skeptical about labels; they know that “organic” can mean different things to different governing authorities. If “organic” becomes just a marketing strategy, supply will have to expand to compete with demand, and standards may suffer. That’s why we always prefer foods that taste as they were meant to taste. For that, local producers, who are more likely to grow organically, and whose offerings are more likely to be fresh and seasonal, are more reliable than labels. Organic is a good thing but only if we keep it real.

Bonheur [boh(n)-UHR]: French women know happiness is not a matter of luck; it’s what you make of your life. This word for happiness is literally “good time.” The French way of connecting feeling with time is telling. It suggests something to be cultivated in the course of our hours and days and months and years, how we live in relation to them. The English word happy comes from the archaic word hap, which means “luck.” Interesting distinction.

Équilibre [eh-kee-LEEBR]: French women know that maintaining balance or a healthy equilibrium is all-important and takes work, though after a while it becomes a continuous, unconscious activity. In terms of food, the notion of equilibrium as it pertains to living like a French woman is the balance between the calories one consumes and those one expends exerting oneself. French women don’t aim to “burn” calories. They eat to fuel their bodies in proportion. If they overeat they don’t plan to balance by overexerting themselves later. (If they overindulge, they simply eat less later.) Walking and the more intense routine exertion of taking the stairs are the French équilibristes secret agents.

Equilibrium is maintained in several time frames: daily (quotidien) balance is, for example, if you have a big fancy dinner, you have a soup or salad for lunch the next day or go for a walk after supper. If you can’t square the books the next day, do so by the end of the week. The balance for maintaining weight is weekly (hebdomadaire). The yearly equilibrium (équilibre annuel) is maintained by observance of the seasons. But what of the monthly (mensuel)? For a stretch of our lives many of us face an added equilibrium challenge. (To some, it can seem a month-long affair every month, from premenstrual syndrome to menstruation to postmenstrual syndrome.)

The difficulty of the experience varies by individual, but French women have traditionally done a few things to ease the symptoms. First, avoid too many carbohydrates at breakfast. Replace orange juice and other sugary things with a bit of protein, such as slivers of boiled ham or prosciutto and a small piece of cheese. For me, yogurt has always been a life-saver, especially when I had more than one a day to ease cramps and control cravings. And something a little counterintuitive: although you may be feeling bloated, do not neglect hydration. Try a big glass of lukewarm water (it’s easier to absorb) with a squeeze of lemon first thing when you get up. When you are retaining water, the best way to get rid of it is to add more.

Faites simple [feht sahmpl]: French women know that generally less is more and when you start with quality—keep it simple. In terms of food, “simple” means less preparation and cooking time required, especially when you use marvelously fresh food. In terms of wardrobe, French women are likely to have only a few prime garments per season, but they are quality pieces that can be handsomely dressed up or down with the use of accessories, making it easier to put yourself together.

Joie de vivre [zhwah duh VEEV-ruh]: French women know that a healthy mind and body, taking pleasure in the seasons and in things great and small, are all part of “the joy of living,” joie de vivre (an expression for which there is sadly no American equivalent). One sure way to maximize your joie de vivre is to become a student of l’art de vivre, cultivating an appreciation of balance and gratification in all forms of sensory experience.

Laissez-aller [LEH-say al-LAY]: French women rarely give up on themselves, literally, to let oneself go. They know that it’s never too late to be beautiful and that being beautiful is nothing more than maintaining themselves physically and mentally at any given interval of life. Coco Chanel said, “Nature gives you the face you have at twenty, life shapes the face you have at thirty, but at fifty you get the face you deserve.”

Peu à peu [puh ah puh]: French women appreciate that Rome wasn’t built in a day (and neither was France), but rather “little by little.” The progress of your life toward peak experiences in all aspects of living will take time. Changes made drastically or all at once are often the sorts of modifications that don’t stick. Like New Year’s resolutions, they are upheld proudly for a little while, but then we fall back to our old ways. Arrive at your new ways gradually, and you will leave your old ways too far behind for easy return. And if you slip up a bit, you won’t feel a failure; you will know how to get back on track because it isn’t all or nothing. It’s a game of inches.

Plage de temps [plahzh duh tahm(p)]: French women are hedonists without being narcissists, but also pragmatists who understand that a healthy balance of pleasure in life requires a “beach of time,” a lovely expression meaning a space of time for oneself to which one repairs on a daily or periodic basis. Sometimes it means making a morning for oneself—I have had to make a practice of scheduling a beach day for myself— or sometimes it can be a half hour or just a few minutes. It can be found in the most unlikely places: when you are stuck in traffic, listening to music, or just doing routine chores. You can let your mind fill up with anxiety or resentments, or with a bit of practice you can learn to head to the beach. The mind is its own place.

De saison [duh say-ZOH(N)]: French women know life would be tedious if it came in only one flavor. Whether fashion, food, or travel, French women anticipate and indulge in what’s “in season.” It’s fun to be “au courant” with respect to the latest in food, drink, style. But this does not mean we don’t pay proper attention to les classiques, whether they be the little black dress or the best of foods that return and give indispensable pleasure year after year. Alas, to define de saison properly takes a book (hopefully this one).