A Paris outfit is almost cartoonish, which makes sense as its reference point is the famed costume designer Patricia Field-styled Netflix show Emily in Paris.Netflix
Phoebe Maltz Bovy is a contributing columnist for The Globe and Mail.
I cannot say that I would, in the abstract, recommend traveling to Paris shortly after the Olympics, during the city’s annual August shutdowns, with little kids in tow. But a pandemic-delayed trip to see family in Belgium brought us near Paris and, as someone who in a past life was super into French stuff (I have a doctorate in French and briefly lived in Paris), it seemed the thing to do.
My interest in Proust isn’t what it once was, but I was eager to eat croissants, gawk at Hausmannian buildings (what’s stopping you from looking like this, Toronto?), and – above all – to see how people dress in Paris these days. Were jeans, navy blazers and red nails still the look? What were the beautiful people wearing in the beautiful place?
I did and didn’t get an answer to this question. The architecture was if anything better than I remembered, but Parisians themselves were away, languidly enjoying a month-long holiday somewhere, presumably, where the bakeries are open. (Toronto again comes to mind.) But tourists, undeterred by the bleakness of boutiques and bistros shuttered for their congés annuels, lined up for the Louvre and shelled out for unairconditioned Airbnbs with plumbing issues because such is the eternal magic of Paris. The Seine doesn’t go on holiday, even if lingering Olympics-related barricades partially blocked access. Tourist sites were bustling.
Women come to Paris from other places and assume Paris means 'dress-up,' and wind up strutting around in the going-out clothes of wherever they happen to come from.Netflix
The logistics of this trip – a few days to show Paris to a 3- and 5-year-old – meant alternating between a must-see checklist and the blissfully ubiquitous public toilettes. And what you find at the Eiffel Tower or the Luxembourg Gardens are non-Parisian young women taking selfies in their Paris outfits.
What’s a Paris outfit? In the imagination, it’s a hyper-girly look – nothing unisex – involving high heels, with giant bows on everything, and a red beret. Paris-outfitted women come from all over the world, and all you can tell about them at first glance is that wherever they’re from, Paris ain’t it.
The effect is more a Harajuku reference to Parisian style than anything homegrown. It’s almost cartoonish, which makes sense as its reference point is the famed costume designer Patricia Field-styled Netflix show Emily in Paris. But versions of the Paris outfit predate that series. Women come to Paris from other places and assume Paris means “dress-up,” and wind up strutting around in the going-out clothes of wherever they happen to come from.
In the imagination, a Paris outfit is a hyper-girly look – nothing unisex – involving high heels, with giant bows on everything, and a red beret.Stephanie Branchu/The Associated Press
Real Parisians, you see, don’t wear berets. They don’t go around in Chanel-style tweed miniskirt suits as if they’re Patsy from a 1990s episode of Absolutely Fabulous. Opinion is divided on the Breton-striped shirts, whether these are a touristy gimmick or something actual French people gravitate towards. Parisian women have an effortlessness about them, the famous je ne sais quoi, which by definition cannot be the result of dressing like you’ve bought a “Parisian” costume at the Halloween store. True Parisian style is both more casual than you’d think it is and far less casual than Canadian or (especially) American day-to-day garb. You know it when you see it, which is why aiming for it and missing the mark comes across as a kind of profound lack of self-awareness.
Ms. Field’s Sex and the City outfits didn’t accurately reflect how New York women dressed, either, but Paris is something else. It’s meant to be the worst thing in the world, trying to dress like a Parisian but not succeeding. Much like speaking French and being answered in English because your accent gave the game away, Frenchness itself has this ineffable, unattainable quality. I remember the American girls who’d go on study abroad and think a scarf made them pass, but everyone could spot them because of something in their posture, their commitment to heat-styling their hair, their muscle tone from years of team sports. You just know. But is this a failure or, perhaps, a hybrid aesthetic in its own right?
True Parisian style is both more casual than you’d think it is and far less casual than Canadian or (especially) American day-to-day garb.Netflix
I’d like to reclaim the non-French woman dressed for Paris as a valid style, and a cute one at that. Much as Italian-American cuisine is its own thing, and not Italian food done wrong, the Paris outfit is a style. It’s a reference to Paris, worn in Paris, but not the same thing as what the wealthy locals wear. So what?
That said, I cannot say I have embraced the Paris outfit for myself, opting instead for “haggard mom in least-dirty remaining clothing” chic. After leaving yet another public washroom, on the Boulevard Saint-Germain, I found myself chatting in French with one of the rare locals, a posh French woman maybe in her 60s. I was muttering something about how I’d chosen the right footwear for this activity (black Crocs), and, wait for it: she admired them. I eagerly await the hordes of Parisiennes in their Phoebe-in-Paris-inspired Toronto outfits, posing in front of the CN Tower in glorified shower shoes.