French Girls At Work

French Girls At Work
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Part of HuffPost Wellness. ©2022 BuzzFeed, Inc. All rights reserved.
I work out. I rarely eat baguettes, cheese or chocolate (except when on assignment -- I'm a food writer). And like many women, I like to fit into a small pair of jeans. But I wanted it both ways when I spent a week in Paris with two girlfriends last summer.
Apr 13, 2013, 09:59 AM EDT | Updated Dec 6, 2017
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French women don't work out. And what do they eat? Baguettes, cheese, chocolate. You won't find them sweating it out at a boot camp. Yet they're rail thin.
I work out. I rarely eat baguettes, cheese or chocolate (except when on assignment -- I'm a food writer). And like many women, I like to fit into a small pair of jeans. But I wanted it both ways when I spent a week in Paris with two girlfriends last summer. I intended to indulge in the best of the world's food, but still wear my favorite jeans home -- the cutest but most unforgiving pair. So I resolved to tackle a different type of workout every day in Paris, eat everything I wanted, and hope the jeans would fit in both directions over the Atlantic.
I had grand ideas -- rollerblading, running up the stairs in Montmartre, power yoga. My friends wanted to throw in some boxing and ballet. Then? The days overflowing with food and wine and adventures left no room for workouts. To wit: Over a wine-drenched lunch with a couple of expats I took down the number of one's personal trainer; he'd helped her lose 20 pounds. But I never managed to call him.
Even worse, I stood up a power yoga class -- I'd signed up because it aligned with my sensibilities as a former power-lifter. The class was set for 9 a.m. Morning, announced by the scent of cigarette smoke drifting into my room from the street, came early.
The day before we'd taken a gastronomic stroll with the Paris Greeters program. A volunteer guide led us through a fromagerie, the Poilâne boulangerie, a wine shop and a market to shop for an afternoon-long picnic. We followed this with a jaunt up the stairs at the Eiffel Tower, and bike ride back across the city to collect more provisions for a dinner pique-nique in our apartment. The French music from the staticky little radio led to a late-night dance party in our living room. Even after a restorative coffee I couldn't summon the energy to get to the class in the morning.
This was the first time I have ever skipped a workout. Feeling slightly guilty for my last-minute cancellation, we pedaled to the Marais for some shopping before a lengthy private lunch in the tiny La Tête dans les Olives in Belleville.
We feasted that night at Philou -- just the kind of chalkboard-menu-on-the-wall bistro I imagine when I dream of Paris. We swapped bites of each course allowing us to each try nine dishes (not to mention the bite of the fig tart the gentleman at the next table insisted I try when I inquired about his dessert).
I had one day left to squeeze in a workout and debated even doing that. But all I'd managed to do this week was bike, walk, climb a few stairs, and row a bit around Lac Inférieur at the Bois de Boulogne. And if I'm being honest, even that was just an excuse to eat. We packed a picnic of baguettes, wine in plastic cups with peel-away lids, and macarons. After taking turns rowing a few hundred meters, we gave in to floating and the bliss of our lunch.
In fact, I gave in to the bliss every day. I didn't deny myself anything. Macarons were a daily staple. I indulged in the baguettes that I can only dream of at home, pain au chocolate, tender veal sweetbreads, pungent cheeses, dessert every night, wine beginning at lunch and really never stopping, duck, steak, game, even the most deliriously good burger I've ever had the joy to sink my teeth into at L'Atelier du Hamburger Big Fernand.
Through all of this I gave myself permission to not surrender a moment's thought to calories. Though I wasn't working out, and was stuffing myself as if I wanted to turn my liver into foie, I felt magnifique . Men complimented our trio nearly, calling out to us as we pedaled by, stopping us on bridges to tell us we were beautiful. In this city of thin and chic women, I felt alluring, eating with abandon as I was, and smiling with unbridled delight all day.
In the end I made it to the last-chance workout, mainly because I was too embarrassed to cancel again. One of our trio had an early flight, so my remaining friend Tracy and I made our way to le Jardin Villemin to meet Iain Waite, a personal trainer (whose yoga class I'd skipped). The scent of yesterday's wine wafting from our pores, we began jumping jacks with little enthusiasm. Intensely competitive in fitness at home I just wanted to get through this hour without embarrassing myself. Curious Parisians strolling by stopped to take in our activities.
Where was my usual overdrive? I guess it was back home, though not from lack of leadership. Iain was an excellent trainer -- surprising me with new exercises and a good pace. He didn't cut us any slack, and the athlete buried somewhere inside me under the avalanche of macarons could appreciate that.
But I was thrilled when the workout ended. It was time to eat. By dinner my pedometer told me I'd walked about 14 kilometers. I doubt that even burned the camembert frit at lunch.
Yet the next morning, when it came time to face the truth of the rich food I'd demolished all week, I pulled on my jeans and looked in the mirror. They fit just fine. In fact, they were just a little loose.
I think French women have the right idea. Maybe it's time I move to Paris.
Feeling happy (and) pretty in Paris. Photo by Better Paris Photos.
For more by Dana McMahan, click here .

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The French don’t “date”… So what is a man to do? Here is how to navigate the French dating system… or lack of it!
It is so funny to see how some social behaviours are exactly the same between France and the US, and others are completely different. One of the very obvious difference is the dating game.
Well, this was a big shock to me when I arrived in the US. I had no idea what “dating” meant.
I understood of course a man and a woman could be interested in each other in a romantic way, let me reassure you.
But I was not aware that accepting to go out to dinner with a man alone gave the signal that I was possibly romantically interested in him.
Nor did I know about this first date, second date and third date business.
In France, it’s very common for a girl to go out to dinner with a male friend.
Even for a married woman to go out with a male friend who is single.
I often travel to Paris by myself; my daughter Leyla and husband Olivier stay in Paimpol. I often have dinner with one (or several) of our good (male) friend(s), whether they’re single or not.
Olivier trusts me, and we both trust our friend(s), who would never make a pass at me. I guess it’s much more accepted in France for men and women to be friends.
However, if a woman is dining with a man, you can bet he will pick up the check. Some old habits die hard. I usually trick them by asking to be excused (as if I was going to the lady’s room, grab the waiter and give him my credit card).
But I would never do that to my Dad who would be very upset if I did. But I digress…
When I meet a man and I am without my husband, I’ll place within the first minutes of the conversation that “my husband blablabla… and our daughter blablabla…”. That usually is enough to make my state of mind really clear.
I did the same thing as a girl, talking about my boyfriend (actually existing or not) early on in the conversation.
Now, not everybody does that of course, some girls like to play, and sometimes lose themselves in the game, or hurt people. Some boys never give up… and sometimes their tenacity pays off… And some people are just not faithful, but contrary to popular opinion, it’s not worse in France than anywhere else (and several studies demonstrate it).
A new approach to learning both traditional and modern French logically structured for English speakers.
French people flirt . It’s in our genes and it’s socially accepted in France. A Frenchwoman is expected to play her feminine side, and be “admired” for her beauty and wit among other qualities.
Frenchmen like to flirt as well, even if they know very well there is no hope of it leading anywhere. The game is the main point, it’s relatively innocent and usually no-one gets hurt, just a little blushed :-)
With kissing hi and goodbye being the standard and French women being more “flirtatious”, it can be difficult for foreigners to correctly read a French woman’s body language.
I guess since there is no set protocol, French women are pretty obvious, and often more direct than other women.
You will know when a French girl is flirting with you: she’ll smile to excess, move her hair a lot, smile at you, blush, laugh hard and loud at your jokes, find occasions to touch your shoulder (or even your knee… oh la la),… and it’s not unlikely that she’ll make the first move. So relax and enjoy the show :-)
As for French men. Well, they are men. It’s unlikely they’ll refuse to take it further, but not unheard of. Again, the game is often more important than the catch, even to men.
It all boils down to this. The woman has all the power when it comes to dating. She decides whether she wants the guy or not, and may need more than one dinner to make up her mind… Then, she’ll make the situation pretty clear… or just keep on flirting for the joy of it.
It’s then up to the guy if the company of “la belle” is enough for him, or if the game has lasted long enough – in which case no-one is forcing him to continue to invite her.
In any case, there is no obligation nor expectation whatsoever for the woman to do whatever after any number of “rendez-vous galants”.
So, since there is no dating protocol, French guys have to work hard for it… They cannot just assume that if the girl accepts to go out with them three times, “c’est dans la poche” (it’s in the pocket, it’s a done deal).
Maybe this is why French guys have the reputations of being so romantic, and… tenacious !! We trained them well (with some exceptions of course… pretty much every politician :-(
Believe it or not, at the opposite of all the stereotypes, French people are much more about love than sex.
Talking about sex is not taboo in France as it is in the US, and it is much more present in humor, art, tv and everyday life than in the US… and so is nudity: children are often naked on the beach, women can go topless (although it’s less frequent now than when I was young)…
Still, sex is very much associated with love. I wrote an article about French Sex Vocabulary if you are curious – watch out, it is explicit and written for an adult audience.
Many of my French friends – men and women alike – have waited to meet someone special for their first time, didn’t just want to get rid of their virginity, and have never had one night stand.
If sex between consenting adults is very much socially accepted, a lot of French people won’t rush into it, and get to know each other before jumping into bed.
It’s only in American movies that I found out about this “let’s be exclusive” concept.
In France, pretty much once you’ve exchanged a kiss, it’s expected of you to be exclusive: you don’t chase several rabbits at the same time… Maybe that’s why things take a bit more time to develop in France – we like the game, and we like to take our time playing it.
It’s actually the first point they made in this video, which I really liked:
In many cultures, saying I love you is a milestone in the relationship. It doesn’t seem to be that important in France.
According to a show on France 2 national TV channel,8% of French people would be ready to declare their love on the first day!! Yet, France 2 also says many French feel comfortable saying “I love you” within 2 months of the relationship (Frenchmen: 88 days, Frenchwomen 134 days!)
I hope this article shed some light on the French dating system… or lack of it. Of course, this is only my opinion – please take it as such.
And if you like this article, you’ll probably enjoy my “ French women beauty secrets” article .
And for more about “l’amour” in France, check out my Saint Valentin article .
Born and raised in Paris, I have been teaching today's French to adults for 23+ years in the US and France. Based on my students' goals and needs, I've created unique downloadable French audiobooks focussing on French like it's spoken today, for all levels. Most of my audiobooks are recorded at several speeds to help you conquer the modern French language.
Good luck with your studies and remember, repetition is the key!
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