Lessons from Madame Chic

I loved everything about this book, in which the author recounts her time spent with an aristocratic Parisian family and details the fabulous lessons learned from them, and others she came into contact with during her time spent in France.

Jennifer has a friendly conversational tone of writing that makes you feel instantly pulled into her circle of girlfriends. Often I felt I was having a cup of tea and a chat with her.

I, along with many others followed Jennifer’s blog series The Top 20 Things I Learned in Paris. This book carries on with these lessons and goes more in depth. There are also many new stories about her time in Paris..

From her writing, both in this book and on her blog, The Daily Connoisseur, I sense that Jennifer is an elegant and gentle person. It was a pleasure to get to know her better through her first book Lessons from Madame Chic. I really hope there are others.

I certainly picked up many tips to elevate my day-to-day life to that of art. We may not all be French aristocracy, but that doesn’t mean we don’t want to live beautifully, every single day of our life.

Thank you Jennifer for writing this fun and well-designed book. It will keep Paris alive in my head and rightly deserves a prime spot on my French Chic bookshelf.

Disclosure: Jennifer kindly emailed and asked me if I would like a copy of Lessons from Madame Chic sent to me to review. Yes please! And thank you!

Additional note: Our rescue-cat Jessica published this review post when it was only half finished so I apologise on her behalf if you received it incomplete.

Being ‘French’

I've been thinking about whether I have actually put into my life what I love to read about. Have I been walking the walk? I'm sure there are women living in Paris who would laugh at the 'French girl' descriptions, or perhaps they really are all like the books say.

I love reading, thinking and writing about the idealistic French girl. Whether it's actually true or not really makes no difference to me. I am inspired to be a better (and better-groomed) person and that's the important thing. So here are ways I have incorporated some French-inspired ideals into my life.

Walking. I sometimes walk purely for exercise, where I put on my running shoes, a t-shirt and a pair of knit pants and walk for an hour, briskly. Lately though I have been blending my exercise walk with errands. Previously, I would walk for an hour, get back and then drive to the supermarket, bank, post office etc.

Now I often have gone out for a walk in my normal clothing, just adding a pair of comfortable walking shoes (not running shoes) and carrying a tote bag that slings over my shoulder. I can then walk to the bank, post office, shops. As long as I'm not buying too much I'm OK. Obviously for a big supermarket shop I take the car.

Natural hair and makeup. I have always worn makeup, however now I wear less. I want a subtle glow, and long, dark lashes. I use a sheer, water-based foundation and use a very light hand with powder, blush, lipstick, eyebrow pencil, eye shadow, eyeliner and mascara. Often on a day at home when I wear just tinted moisturiser and even smaller amounts of the above I think how pretty the effect is. So as time goes on I can see myself wearing less and less - but always some.

With my hair, I had it my natural colour for many years (medium blonde), but now with greys creeping in it has started looking a little... drab. Bearing in mind advice not to stray too far from your natural colour, I have been having blonde highlights and my own colour lowlights together. I have read that French women embrace natural hair colours rather than anything too extreme.

Clothing. What I have taken from the French woman is to wear what I like and what suits me, regardless of what's in fashion. I still try new things, but have come to get a better idea of whether it will suit me or not.

I also know now that I don't like floaty boho pieces, but feel altogether more polished in simple, fitting shapes in soft or bright colours paired with neutrals and not too much black. The process of thinning out my wardrobe is ongoing, distilling the pieces down into ones I love and wear and which look great on me.

Using my good things. I light expensive gift candles, eat off our good plates, and enjoy one of the few bottles of good wine we have stored away for a special occasion. My husband has said this to me more than once that he loves that I use my good things.

We have four gorgeous small glasses rimmed in 24 carat gold that have to be hand washed (I learned that after putting two in the dishwasher - it used to be a set of six). I never used them because... they had to be handwashed. A few months ago, I got them out of the cupboard, hand washed them and used them that night. It felt like such a treat! They really are beautiful glasses and I don't mind looking after them.

Same with some wine glasses which were a gift. When I broke one and had to replace it, one glass cost $30. It put me off using them for a while, but now I do again. I put these ones in the dishwasher. If they break, they break. Better to enjoy them than keep them for, what? The day that never comes?

My Nana died last year, and she was famous for keeping her good clothing in the wardrobe and wearing old clothing around the house. She bought beautiful, expensive clothing but didn't want to wear it (it was 'too good'). Now her daughters and grand-daughters are walking around in her lovely tops and scarves.

She also had boxes of scented body lotions and perfumes stored under her bed, with cheap supermarket body lotion in the bathroom. Perhaps that comes from growing up during the Depression. I'm just sad that she didn't get to enjoy it.

So now when I look into the bathroom cupboard after my shower in the morning, I use my most expensive body lotion first. It doesn't last forever you know. Even if all I'm doing is going to work or staying home. I don't have that many big nights out to save it for.

One such day last week when I had moisturised top-to-toe in rose-scented Crabtree & Evelyn my husband commented how nice I smelt when we hugged. And even if he's not there I enjoy it too.

What French-inspired things are you doing with your day?

Image from Studio Nate on www.flickr.com

True Pleasures

Originally posted on La Vie En Fifi, 25 November 2009

Below are two of my favourite quotes from True Pleasures: A Memoir of Women in Paris by Lucinda Holdforth. I read this book last year.

'The Paris of my imagination is a site of pleasure and history and beauty. It's a place to recharge myself as a woman. Each time I come back here it's like greeting an older woman friend, one who is rather grand and imperious - a great dame, in fact - who likes me to look my best, to have my wittiest conversation to hand and to be on my toes all the time.'

And another,

'The house is small and modest, a sign of her commitment to financial freedom and independence.'

The house we currently live in is rather small and modest, but rather than just exist in it and wait and wish for a bigger place, I am now embracing its size, decluttering and making the most of things (it's not that we need a bigger house, we just need less stuff).

We were very lucky in that it was thoroughly renovated immediately before we moved in, with everything whitewashed, brand new kitchen and brand new dark donkey-brown carpet. Every single light switch and light fitting was new, even hinges and handles on the doors (brushed silver). If we had to choose the decor, we would probably choose the one we ended up with.

I love the second quote as it reminds me we are being good stewards of our money by not wasting (whether rent or mortgage) our funds on a large abode. And if I find myself wishing for a bigger home, I remember the chic Parisiennes living stylish lives in their tiny apartments and all is well again.

Image from randomhouse.com.au

European men are different

Originally posted on La Vie En Fifi, 20 October 2009

(above, moi outside Paris Opera House. I did not know one does not belt the trench then, one ties it. I do now).

During my European trip, 2001 - first and hopefully not my last, I spent a few days each in Paris, and Rome. Firstly, I dressed up. Knowing we would be travelling through Paris (a female friend and I travelled together - both of us were single at the time) I packed a skirt and high heels even though travelling with a back pack.

My travel companion, on the other hand, wore track pants (gathered at the ankles), a sweat shirt and a bum bag (fanny pack). Such a shame. One of our days was spent seeing the sights and the other, shopping, window shopping, and soaking up the atmosphere. On the shopping day I suggested we split up for that day and meet back at our hotel later on. I feel a bit mean about this, but I wanted to enjoy the ambiance of Paris by myself, and in appropriate attire!


(above, outside Sacre Coeur, Montmatre). In Paris, a young man came up to me and asked if I would like to go out with him. 'I'm only in Paris tonight', I said. 'One night is all I need...' he replied. And not sleazy either! Rather, fun and flirty. I declined politely.


Next in Italy (above, viewing the ruins in Pompeii, so worth the bus trip). The same travelling companion and I walking along a footpath in Rome, admiring beautiful building after beautiful building, wondering at what family-run trattoria we should dine that evening.

Next thing, a suave and svelte Italian gentleman on his scooter (of course, they were everywhere in Rome - young women in pencil skirts and high heels with open-face helmets on, balancing a coffee on the handlebars and stylish young men in fine cut suits) rides close to where we are walking, making kissy faces to us. Again, fun and flirty.

These light hearted encounters just add to your day. No wonder French and Italian women like to dress up!

Savon, et Livres

Originally posted on La Vie En Fifi, 6 April 2009

Two things I cannot do without (or rather cannot refrain from purchasing) are lovely soap, and books. Not when on a strict(ish) budget, and apparently not when travelling.

On my 3½ week European trip several years ago, where I took a backpack because I thought that’s what you do (imagine me checking into the Millenium Hotel in Kensington, London. The Concierge’s face was something else. So unchic). I bought stacks of delicious olive oil soap in Paris and books in London.

What was I thinking? Both purchases were near the beginning of my trip, and I really regretted their impulsive acquisition when trying to fit everything into my bag in Rome.

But when I arrived home, the half a dozen bars of soap, very old fashioned and very French looking, with a vaguely medicinal fragrance took me back to the little side street chemist in Paris I bought them from, every morning in the shower for months afterwards.

The books, not so much. I could have bought them at home, and eventually I sold them to a second hand shop. It hasn’t cured me though, and the bookshelves are constantly being rearranged to fit my new purchases.

I’m very particular these days though on what I spend my money and bookshelf space on. If it’s a novel I can read it from the library. Only keepers make their way home for good. Either favourite fiction, or non-fiction I think I will reference in the future.

Op shops and the Salvation Army are a great place to browse for books too. I have found so many that are on my wants list. Books that I wouldn’t have gone into Whitcoulls to buy, but when they are 50c or $1 I’ll give them a good home. And others that are out of print so aren't even available from new bookstores, even better.

And as for my soap addiction? My husband has banned me from buying any more until I use up my stock. Currently I am enjoying Crabtree & Evelyn lavender. Not just for old ladies! The scent of Provence in my own bathroom - a serene way to begin my day.

Image of edible (not really) French soap from apartmenttherapy.com

True Stories from Paris

Originally posted on La Vie En Fifi in two parts, 27 January and 5 February 2009

My Great-Aunt has some amazing stories about her years of living and working overseas as a nurse. She was telling me the other day that she was a private nurse for Elizabeth Arden's sister in the late 1960s in Paris. This lady was the behind-the-scenes person for the beauty company. My Great-Aunt would stay with her overnight in her Paris apartment and her household staff would be there during the day.

Miss Arden had to go to hospital for some reason, and couldn't decide whether to book into the American Hospital in Paris, or be privately nursed in either her home in Chantilly just outside of Paris, or in a suite at the Hotel Ritz. She finally decided not to stay at the Ritz as her dog didn't like the food there. Yes, really.

My Great-Aunt said you would see people sitting in the hotel restaurant, dog on a chair next to them, eating from their own plate at the table. Incredible.

My Great-Aunt also told me that when she worked in the American Hospital in Paris in 1969, she nursed Coco Chanel (the real deal). One evening Mademoiselle Chanel did not feel like having a bath or a shower, so had my Great-Aunt empty bottles of Chanel No. 5 into a basin for a sponge bath. When she was finished, my Great Aunt was instructed to pour the fragrance down the sink.

During the same hospital stay, a very young Karl Lagerfeld came in to see Mme. Chanel, among other visitors. When I asked her if Coco spoke much, she said she never stopped talking, however it was in very fast French and my Great-Aunt was still learning to speak the language at that stage so didn't catch much at all. Such a shame! Imagine having a conversation with Coco Chanel and the questions you could ask her.

The image above is of the L’espadon restaurant at the Ritz Paris from paris-best-restaurants.com. Just dreamy.