Some female bloggers call the U.K. paper the Daily Mail the “Daily Fail” because the paper likes nothing more than to bait its readers, especially on its women’s interest “Femail” section. It’s the go-to source for incendiary articles about how bosses should distrust women who don’t have children and you can’t have a family and a career. Nope, we weren’t making those up.
But nevertheless, the paper is fascinating to us—especially a recent article about what it is supposedly like to be a French wife. We romanticized about the sexy accents, and yummy facial hair, but zut alors!, it sounds a bit like being the captive of a very demanding tyrant.
Read on for more tips from French wives… [Daily Mail]Advice: Your Husband Will Always Have An Opinion On Your Weight
My French husband knows what I weigh, will comment on the weight I put on (in front of friends and family, too) and will discuss my figure appreciatively (or not). At first, I was insulted, embarrassed and mortified. Now I know it’s just one of those French things—they do it out of love. Apparently.
Um, if this is true, it’s no wonder “French Women Don’t Get Fat.” They’re too terrified of some jerk saying their butt looks big in front of their entire famille.
He inspects my bottom, stomach and thighs on a regular basis. Pascal absolutely believes that my becoming a ‘fat wife’ would be grounds for divorce.
Pascal sounds like a loser, lady. We wonder how “fat” this French husband is.
Advice: It’s ‘Interdit‘ (Forbidden) To Eat Between Meals
French wives never, ever eat between meals. Ever. This is difficult when you used to be a 4pm-Twix-in-the-afternoon girl…You never eat potatoes, pasta or rice at the same time as your main course—somehow that’s how you keep the weight off.
I’m sorry, but no 4pm snack—whether it’s a candy bar or an apple—sounds impossible.
Advice: Exercise! Exercise! Exercise!
Despite most French women claiming to walk everywhere to keep svelte, this simply isn’t true.
Yeah, didn’t think so. I knew they were lying about that one.
Advice: Privacy For Your Beauty Rituals
In France, there will never be the dilemma to use the loo in front of your beloved—it’s simply never, ever done.
This piece of “how to be a French wife” advice is one we can actually get behind. We wrote a blog post awhile ago about how true intimacy is the willingness to poop in front of each other, but we were single then. Single and foolish. Some things are better left behind closed doors, whether it’s emptying your bowels or waxing your upper lip.
Beauty is taken seriously and I am expected to be perfectly-groomed and made up daily. A French wife would never understand the concept of mooching about in her PJs, make-up free for the morning with the weekend papers scattered everywhere. It ain’t gonna happen.
Well that’s just silly. Most guys say they love the “no makeup, lying around in PJs” look. You know, natural women. They just don’t love it at a formal dinner, when perhaps your salsa-stained Yankees jersey doesn’t pass muster. Maybe this is just an idea that can never cross the French/American divide.
Advice: Never, Ever Get Drunk
You are expected to nurse a glass of wine throughout an evening…It’s just not done to get sloshed and try to keep up with the blokes.
One glass of wine? We thought this dude was French. Next!
Advice: Expect other women to go after your husband
French women are very, very forward where men are concerned—and they’re utterly indifferent to hurting each other’s feelings.
That’s not just French women—we have some disloyal sisters on our side of the pond, too.
Advice: The Family Is Everything
At all family gatherings there is an unspoken rule that women are expected to be in the kitchen, while the men enjoy an aperitif or two.
This is more or less how a lot of family gatherings shake out anyway—women in one room, men in another—but the “unspoken rule” part is so 1950′s.
Advice: Displays of Flesh Are a No-No:
I had to change my wardrobe when I married Pascal. Chic was in and slutty was out. Hipster jeans, mini-skirts, anything which reveals too much flesh or (horrors!) a midriff is frowned upon by a French husband. Glimpses of underwear are strictly forbidden, too. I’m now a sleeker, chicer version of my former self. Wearing jogging bottoms and a pair of flip-flops for a trip to the supermarket nearly gave my husband a heart attack during the early days of our marriage.
We’re with Pascal on this one. Although not for the same reasons. We’re guessing Pascal’s a bit of a possessive bloke and doesn’t want other dudes checking out his wife’s midriff. We’ve simply prefer people stop wearing club clothes to, say, the synagogue. It’s not prudery, just an appreciation for the “less is more” aesthetic. And the jogging-bottoms-and-flip-flops-at-the-supermarket combo is lazy—let’s be honest. We dress down running errands, too, but we’ll even admit it’s sloppy. And that’s usually when we run into that boss we hated or our ex-boyfriend’s new girl, too.
Advice: Always Be Ready to Throw Together A Meal With No Notice
I used to be an ‘expense account lunch’ girl, so it’s probably no bad thing that I can now cook, as Pascal prefers to give out dinner invitations – usually for eight people – just an hour or two before we sit down.
It’s time to ditch this Pascal character—really!