ma cherie amore….or amour…or amo (even)

So… do you like it?

The Boy thinks I look very ‘French’.

I’d love to be French – in my opinion, French women are officially the most stylish on the planet. Look at the evidence – the first lady of fashion – Coco Chanel is French, as is Vanessa Paradis, Audrey Tautou, Bridgette Bardot, Carla Bruni-Sarkozy, and Emmanuelle Béart – all ladies whose style I wish I could emulate. I lust after a Chanel jacket, just one pair of Louboutin shoes and would die if I owned just one Lanvin dress. Instead I settle for the chicness of Sessun and worship my one pair of Chloe boots.

I feel at home in a country where you go to a shop to buy one thing –boulangerie, patisserie, charcuterie. A country where the philosophy is to have exactly what you like, as long as it is in moderation, a spoonful of jam so solid with strawberries it would stick to the ceiling, a square of cocoa rich chocolate, garlicky creamy daupinose potatoes, decadent rillette and foie gras, saucisson sec, and sweet madelines.

The LTE was half French and we spent summers visiting Lyon, Avignon, and staying in little towns like Manosque and Greoux les Bain, driving between fields of lavender to eat at tiny restaurants with set 3 course meals of onion tart, duck cassoulet and crème brulee (or eggs in aspic, never again) and then spend early evenings reading on the porch, bonsoir-ing the locals before strolling to a bar to drink rich red wine.

I’d love to be French, oh to be sitting right now in a little café with my Café Noisette smoking a blue Gauloise cigarette just watching the world go by.

If you could be any other nationality what would you be?

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