How to Survive the Next Four Years Like a French Woman
Just what is their secret? French women seem to do everything with an effortless _je ne sais quoi—_whether it’s eating, dressing, dating, or resisting fascism. Our resident Parisienne shares her tips for elegantly surviving the next two hundred or so weeks.
Thank Invest in Staple Pieces
Don’t splurge on every knickknack that catches your eye! French women have an inborn talent for recognizing quality and buying things that last. Like a copper I.U.D., which will see you through to 2021.
It’s in a French girl’s blood to flirt with anyone who crosses her path—quel charme! You’ll find such a tactic helpful when you or a loved one is detained without explanation, the recipient of death threats, harassed at a protest, or arrested for blasphemy.
Always Keep Perfume on Hand
Which is to say, pepper spray.
Sip Your Wine
French women don’t drink to get drunk; they savor a glass or six of Beaujolais in the face of crushing anxiety over the brisk pace at which Donald Trump is enacting his campaign promises.
Maintain an Air of Mystery
Don’t give it all up at once! French women know that withholding information is seductive. When an alt-right bro gaslights you, keep some choice expletives in reserve until you get to know each other better. 😉
The reason French women seem to be able to indulge in so many sinful treats and stay trim is their immaculate portion control. Learn to stop after just one serving of Twitter, cable news, or video of a Nazi getting punched and you can enjoy these choice indulgences every day.
It’s good for digestion.
So there are still a few Trump apologists in your newsfeed (family). Let it go! French women don’t get worked up over the small stuff. Donate to Planned Parenthood in their names and call it a day.
Take Off One Thing Before You Leave the House
Do you really need mace, a rape whistle, and nunchucks every time you go outside? Probably yes, given the prevalence and normalization of violence against women and minorities since Election Day. Via the NewYorker by Krithika Baragur. But it’s much more chic to pick just one for the good fight.