Kitsch Magazine: Fall 2015

FRENCH
GIRL
SYNDROME
the subconscious imperialism of the american wannabe
by Yana Lysenko
art by Riley Henderson
In France, to be a French girl is to have been born in
France. In America, to be a French girl is to fit the American
framework of how a French girl should look: obviously skinny,
cigarette in mouth, wearing sunglasses, and running her hands
through her beautiful messy hair. She doesn’t wear makeup
because her skin is already flawless, she never blow-dries, and
her jeans are 3 years old but still look new because they’re
high-quality and cost half her month’s rent. The French girl
should also, perhaps, speak French.
Young Americans—specifically girls—are obsessed
with the idea of looking and acting French. It’s an aspiration
that stems from the 1960s, when Jean-Luc Godard and other
new French directors entered the world’s cinematic scene with
their DIY-produced, angst-ridden New Wave films. Drawing on
“ ”
American film noir, but with younger actors, a fondness for pop,
and a stereotypically French preoccupation with sex, the New
Wave solidified an image of French-ness that has lasted to the
present day. To be French in American culture is to look and act
cool—in the whitest way possible. The qualities that Americans
deem fundamental to French culture are so generalized and
flawed that they create France and its people as the society it
was perhaps 50 years ago: a whitewashed bourgeois culture
that has since disappeared, but still exists in the mind of the
idealistic Anglo-Saxon Francophile.
The most obvious example of this idealistic
generalization is Pinterest, where the idea of “stereotype” is
conceptualized into pictures titled “French Girl Style,” “What to
Wear in Paris: A 7-Day Outfit Guide,” and “Dressing Parisian Chic.”
Put these pictures next to each other, and they all feature the
same thing: a blue and white striped marinière t-shirt, a trench
coat, and ballet flats. Anything else featured will inevitably
include basic garments in varying shades of black, gray, and
white. And stripes—Americans think the French love stripes.
All of these ideas point to a perception of style that, according
to tourists and Francophiles, comprise the entire wardrobe of a
homogenous Gallic French society. Of course, the French know
that is not the case. Sit on the Parisian métro and you will see
as much diversity in clothing, body types, and skin colors as
you would in the New York subway. Even for the non-French
observer who has been exposed to French culture beyond the
“French Style” headlines of Vogue, and has seen more of France
than the Eiffel Tower quickly realizes how unrealistic it is to
Anything else featured will inevitably include basic garments in
varying shades of black, gray, and white.
And stripes—Americans think the French love stripes.
aspire to be French when there is no such thing as the typical
French man or French woman.
Generalization is the offspring of ignorance. In this
case, it’s not a complete lack of knowledge, but a selective one.
American references to French culture and style immediately
point to one of the best-known French films across Western
culture, Godard’s Breathless. The likely reason for the obsession
with this 1960 film is the fact that Jean Seberg, the main
female character, is an American in Paris who never drops
her American accent, but lives the American girl’s dream: she
finds herself multiple Parisian lovers and perfects the gamine
French-American style we have now deemed classically French.
The film is a conglomerate of black-and-white shots of Paris in
all of its glory, along with the typical French shots of smoking
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