Here's looking at you kid

Posted by Isabel Dexter at 23:31 on 28 Jun 2010

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I used to hate the whole Being Stared At Constantly thing that happens to everyone in Paris. It was like those commutes to work on the Northern line where you know you have something stuck in your front teeth but it's too embarrassing to do anything about it. So imagine that feeling, but all day everyday. Even when you've checked your teeth four times and you know there's nothing stuck there anyway because you haven't eaten yet. And still everyone is looking at you like you're a one-woman freak show (and this is before I started with the pole dancing on the metro.)

Now though, I think I've gotten quite fond of it. Even the sleazy old men on the rue de la Turenne who stare and smile out the side of their mouths at the Marais girls in their Balmain shirts and Chanel 2.5 bags. Some even make a sucking noise when you walk by. Apparently that means 'how charming you are' or something in French. Hmm. Well, I suppose it's quite flattering really, isn't it? Or perhaps this just means I'm getting old and turning into my grandmother who was convinced her hairdresser fancied her because she still had all her own teeth. What next? Will I start calling policemen and waiters 'young man'? Serieusement?

Also, the appreciation of the boys* (sorry, young men) in France at least outweighs the judgement and disapproval of the girls here. Not that I judge them for that. It's tough being a girl here - the pressure to be perfect (read super skinny, young, pretty, well-dressed) is immense. So when someone gives you appreciative glances you lap it up like a satisfied kitten. Or actually they don't. The Francaises (French girls) scowl, turn their heads and act haughty. My friends tell me I need to start doing this too otherwise I'll keep getting hit on in the street, but English people are raised to smile back when someone smiles at them. It's just polite, right? And if there's a free verre de vin rouge (glass of red wine) at Cafe Baci in it, then who's complaining?



* And I'm not being arrogant here. French boys do the staring thing at anyone with double X chromosomes. Add some shorts and bare shoulders to the mix and you're pretty much offering yourself up on a platter. Demeaning? Yes, but also weirdly flattering after a lifetime in a country where most men need to have consumed at least six pints before plucking up the courage to make eye contact.

Photo by Carole Dumoulin

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