The Women and Movements Exploding the French-Girl Cliché

If we accept as pure truth the stories told about the French girl over the last 250 years, we understand her to fit into a certain monolithic mold: white, lithe, able-bodied, almost always heterosexual, profoundly seductive, and perfectly composed. A host of familiar faces and bodies compose what has become this absolute standard of Parisian womanhood, obscuring the rest of the population. You know this Parisian woman. You have read books and articles about how to have her career, her children, her metabolism, and her keen ability tie a scarf. You have surely even helped power the billion-dollar business built on her image. 

For generations, this exported and commodified trope has been anchored to a restrictive set of figures, from Françoise Hardy and Brigitte Bardot to Ines de la Fressange, as well as more modern iterations such as Jeanne Damas, Sabina Socols, and Camille Charrière. It isn’t that such women are pure fiction—they absolutely exist—it is that they represent a narrow slice of a complex patchwork of identities.

As I discuss in my book The New Parisienne: The Women & Ideas Shaping Paris, these pervasive and reductive depictions of the Parisian, upheld and repurposed in popular culture, have an impact not only on women around the world who are meant to feel forever inadequate, but also on the local women who don’t or can’t live up to the myth. 

In France, as discussions persist about immigration and just who is French, it’s clear that the ubiquitous avatar of the Parisienne erases women of color, disabled women, trans women, and countless others, making it all the more egregious and damaging.

In an era of powerful conversations about representation, discrimination, and belonging, it might seem strange to fixate on the image of the girl with her bike and a baguette, but real change—especially for women—depends on shattering all the stereotypes that limit the way we see ourselves and others. Here, I break down some of the most enduring myths about the French girl of our collective, projected fantasies—and introduce you to the women who are helping to correct the record.

Myth #1: There is a one-size-fits-all version of Parisianness.

News flash: Women aren’t a monolith! Reducing anyone to a codified set of values is to risk establishing what Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie calls the single story, when complex people are reduced to a single narrative. The pernicious, narrow view of Parisian women as white, heterosexual, thin, seductive, and concerned with superficial matters is capitalized on, repurposed, and recirculated as novelty by tourism boards, magazines, books, and brands. It is problematic for all the reasons Adichie highlights in her must-watch TED Talk: “The problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story,” stripping people of their humanity.

Women to follow: This is a good place to start, in addition to Lauren Bastide, Sarah Zouak, Laurianne Melierre, Rokhaya Diallo, Marina Carlos, Jennifer Padjemi, Grace Ly, Sarah Ourahmoune, and Dr. Ghada Hatem-Gantzer.

Myth #2: She is French-born.

It doesn’t require a set of statistics (in fact, it is illegal to keep racial, ethnic, or religious statistics in France) to know that the capital’s population is composed of people from a diverse set of backgrounds—not just socio-economic, but cultural and professional too. In fact, unlike other European countries, France has a history of immigration that goes back to the 19th century, predating the post–World War II period of broad migration that saw the arrival of migrants from Italy, Spain, Portugal, North Africa, and later West Africa. And yet that plurality rarely finds its way into mainstream media. For Alice Pfeiffer, journalist and author of the book Je ne suis pas Parisienne, the archetype fits the story the country wants to portray. “It works in France’s favor to keep whitewashing its image. Then they don’t have to address their colonial past.”

Women to follow: Ajiri Aki, Aline Asmar d’Amman, Inna Modja, Jacqueline Ngo Mpii, Rahaf Harfoush, Elena Rossini

Myth #3: She is a seductress.

A product of the male gaze, the notion of the Parisian woman as a femme fatale can be traced to the 18th century in one of Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s most popular works, Julie or the New Heloise. He depicted her across social classes as inordinately concerned with fashion and artifice as a symbol of status, preoccupied with drawing attention to herself, and of course, talented at seduction. The myth evolved during the Belle Epoque era with structured prostitution and the rise of pleasure houses, feeding the notion of the erotic Parisienne. By WWII, the idea of the Parisienne as a temptress had been exported. A pocket guide distributed to GIs in 1944 warned against pursuing relationships with local women, explaining that most Parisians were not the flirtatious and sexually promiscuous women depicted in pop culture. The guide did, however, use words like masterful seductresses, wicked, and frivolous to frame the women the soldiers would meet, much as Rousseau did. Flash forward to the 1950s and 1960s with the rise of the original sex kitten Brigitte Bardot, and you have the makings of an enduring association tying women to sexual temptation. 

Women to follow: The founders of Clit Revolution, artist Agathe Sorlet, and creator Camille Aumont Carnel.

Myth #4: She lives in ultimate liberty.

That depends on individual circumstance and interpretation of the word liberty. 

Is it taking up space without the threat of violence or aggression? Is it the ability to be visible in the public sphere and to make your voice heard? Because as of 2018, only 19% of experts solicited for debates, panel discussions, or think pieces in France are women, according to Les Expertes, a database of French and Francophone experts across professional sectors. Is it the ability to seek assistance in building a family? Because at the time of writing, PMA (medically assisted procreation, such as IVF) is still illegal in France for lesbian and uncoupled heterosexual women who want children. 

And is it the ability to navigate life autonomously as a disabled woman? Because there too, liberty is elusive. Recent changes have weakened an existing law meant to ensure accessible housing in the construction of new buildings, and institutionalization remains the all-too-common solution for addressing the needs of disabled persons. For Elisa Rojas, a Parisian lawyer and prominent disability-rights activist, the stereotype masks legitimate concerns for women. “France still believes it’s up to disabled people to adapt to life and not for the country to adapt to them.”

Accounts and organizations to follow: NousToutes, Elisa Rojas, Alice Coffin

Lindsey Tramuta is the author of The New Paris and The New Parisienne: The Women & Ideas Shaping Paris. You can follow her on Instagram @lostncheeseland.

Originally Appeared on Glamour