Oh French women, with your effortlessly stylish ways, I love how you communicate with your scarves, and fancy trench coats. Who needs words when Karl and Isabel, Christian and Norma are on hand to speak on your behalf?
Oh ladies of France with your laissez-faire attitude towards carbs, white flour and copious amounts of wine, both red and white. How your macaroons are ingested like pretty coloured children's vitamins and nary a word about weight shall ever pass your lips. The way you spend countless hours at sidewalk cafes, divinely dining and savoring each morsel, reveling in the joy of good company and the diversity of life as it walks by your cappuccino filled, tables.
Oh French women, how your men appreciate the way you age, and find beauty in your lines and wrinkles. How could they not, for you give them no choice- your body, age and sexuality is cause for constant celebration and celebrate you do. What is your secret?
Oh American counterparts, if only we wore frilly panties and a matching bra to take out the garbage, applied lip gloss to perform the most mundane of tasks and seductively allowed a door to be held open, instead of scowling with vitriol at the very same gesture. Ladies watch your men, for it's no accident "femme fatale" is a french expression. Is there a night class we can take?
Oh French women, Je vous admire et adore la façon que vous se déplacez par le monde. Tres bien.
Yes so true... even in Montreal the French women are always so put together.
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