Franco-American Girl Talk

I was to top off my time in the West Village with my dear friend Michèle, another single woman and une vraie franco-américaine, raised by a French mother and an American father.  Plus she has lived almost equal time in Paris and New York, so she clearly has a handle on both worlds.  For us to meet in New York was a particular treat since she had always been one of my friends from Paris.  I was relying upon her more and more for updates on la vie parisienne.

We tucked ourselves into the corner banquette at Alexandra, another one of the West Village’s charming little restaurants on Hudson Street.  After ordering salads, soupe à l’oignon gratinée and a couple of French Chardonnays, we jumped right in to one of our favorite subjects:  zee French.

“So how are the French doing these days?”  I asked.

“They’re still complaining a lot, but they do continue to enjoy a nice quality of life,” she replied.

“It sounds as though not much has changed since when I lived there.”

Our conversation soon shifted to French men, a far more interesting subject.

“I hope they’re still very charming and that they have remained as attentive as ever toward their women,” I said.

“French men do know how to flirt,” Michèle replied.  “But there’s often nothing behind it.”

“Flirting does make life more fun,” I added.  “I miss that about France.  I don’t think there’s enough flirting here in the U.S.   I always enjoy a titillating exchange.”

“Well I guess men on both sides of the Atlantic still know how to whip out the charm to seduce,” Michèle added.

I pondered this last comment for a while, replaying certain recent encounters in my head.  

“And do French men continue to maintain mistresses?”  I asked, changing the subject just enough so as not to delve headfirst into my own litany of love relationships.  At least not right away.  “People always ask me about that here in America.  I think that’s something that fascinates Americans about the French.”

“That is still more of a reality than a myth,” Michèle answered reflectively.  “I think it’s class specific.  It’s more open and accepted in the haute bourgeoisie.  Many French people live separate lives and are very frank about it.  I know a lot of people that do this.”

“I guess in America people go ahead and split up despite the financial and emotional consequences,” I ventured.  “In France, people live it out until they sort it out.”

We continued chatting about the differences between the French and Americans, a big frame of reference for us both.

“So what else is new?”

“You’ve heard the French are crazy about Carla Bruni, right?”  Michèle asked.

“Oh yes, I know.  I’m not that much out of the loop.”

Alexandra, After the Girls Were Gone

Alexandra, 455 Hudson Street, 212-255-3838, www.nymag.com/listings/restaurant/alexandra