Secrets Of A Paris 'Plus' Shopper
by Dorty Nowak
I skipped dessert today, which is not easy to do in Paris, where patisseries flaunt their delicacies on almost every street corner. I was on my way to my favorite bistro when I passed a store whose name caught my eye, “Plus Madame.” Since I’ve never seen anything “plus” relating to women’s clothes advertised in Paris, I stopped to look. A sign in the window informed me that the store specialized in sizes 42. 42! That’s a size 8 in the U.S. and a size 10 in the U.K., but in France, it’s a “plus.” Suddenly, so was I.
I shouldn’t have been surprised after several years of trying to squeeze myself into French fashion. “Oh, what a pretty outfit. Did you buy it in Paris?” my American friends ask. Well, no, I didn’t. Never mind that with the weak dollar there are no bargains here. The truth is, I don’t fit into most of the clothes I try on.
For one thing, French women have no hips. This is particularly apparent now that skinny jeans – which look like they are painted on – are very a la mode. Not that I, who actually has hips and a waist, have ever dared to try on a pair. Forget blouses too. The sleeves are cut for toothpicks. Even lingerie isn’t an option. Beautiful as it is to look at, on me it leaves far too little to the imagination. Dresses are a possibility, as long as I don’t mind the waists being near my armpits, and the lengths just shy of indecent.
Still, I long to look like the svelte Parisian women I see every day, so I keep shopping. Too often I find myself in a dressing room, with an outfit that looked so perfect on the rack but on me, isn’t. Staring into the mirror, I feel like Alice after drinking the Mad Hatter’s potion – very, very big in clothes that are much too small.
I don’t always leave a boutique empty-handed however. I can buy scarves. French women wear scarves, elegantly and artfully draped, with almost every outfit. Maybe they are born knowing how to tie them. Not being French, I usually end up looking like a girl scout or a Russian grandma.
What is curious to me is that many French women think they are fat. Pharmacies, beauty salons, department stores, all carry a mind-numbing array of products to help with one’s “minceur.” To be “mince” (slender) is good. To be “maigre” (skinny) is not. This is a distinction I have not yet been able to discern. French women, whatever their age, all look maigre to me. However, my French friends are well aware of the difference. Around the beginning of March, they begin to fret and to diet. Posters plastered in the metro stations picture beautiful, bronzed women sporting impossibly small bikinis. It is very important before the annual August migration to the beaches of the Mediterranean to be in good form, i.e. mince. I, however, fret over lunches stripped of their rich creamy sauces and luscious desserts. Somehow they don’t taste as good sitting across from someone picking gingerly at a salad.
I could easily develop a serious body image complex were it not for the U.K. Each summer, when French women migrate to the beaches, I head north. I like the U.K. Fish and chips, ale and fattening pub food, and no one seems to mind. It’s a great place to shop too. I have no trouble buying clothes there, where it seems B cup bras are considered “youth” size and are exempt from sales tax. After a week of restorative eating and shopping I’m ready to take my svelte self back to Paris.
Dorty Nowak is a writer and artist living in Paris and the U.S. who writes frequently about the challenges and delights of multi-cultural living. A former educator and insurance executive, she helped found the Oakland School for the Arts. She is co-curator of the “Where Do I Belong” project involving artists and poets from Europe, Australia and the U.S.
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Reader Comments (11)
This is hilarious, Dorty - I thoroughly enjoyed it. I SO identify with it all ...
Dorty! Magnifique! Even though I am a guy, I 'get it.' I suppose being a 'plus' myself helps. I enjoy your stories about Paris (and have been hoping for more). Thanks for this one. This surely will be an encouragement to Gretta looking head to our own return visit to Paris and its shopping delights next Spring. Since our trip will also include few days in London, we may have to take your advice to eat in Paris and buy clothes in the UK. Please write some more. How about telling your readers more of your thoughts about the new addition to your family. — Dan
Dorty, what fun! Please, please, please, more stories about Paris. I am with you in spirit...maybe in person one day before I conk. Aloha, Susan
Dorty, Very funny and fun - really like this story. Thanks!
LOL! At my gym there are at least two women who travel to Paris twice each year to buy their lingerie. Now I know to look closer and wonder if they have to pay the tax.
TOO funny! And Oh, so true!
I live in Girona, Catalonia (Spain), and I empathize completely. Young (and often older) women stroll down the Rambla in knee-high platform boots, matte-black tights, and short tunic tops--none of which I can fit into. I tried to buy a fall jacket the other day, and ended up in "women's sizes"--and even those didn't fit my more generous (maybe size 12-14?) American size. Armholes grasping my armpits, buttons not closing across my hips... I shrugged and explained, "I have an American body." The compassionate clerk nodded in sympathy. I did find one attractive jacket that fit, imported from Italy, but it cost a fortune ($900 for a little wool jacket? I don't think so!). It's rather discouraging, to say the least. I guess I'll have to wait till we go to England.
Yes please--more stories on Paris! And England, for that matter!
Elyn
dorty- you have done it again- yet this time, i am laughing so hard that my morning coffee is escaping through my nose! when i finally arrive in paris, and attempt a shop- i will be ready, embracing my "inner alice" to keep myself in a stable place of insanity while watching the parisian clothing adorn my body with amusement rather than shock! then off to a patisserie or two so the next shopping spree will be even funnier...sprinkle that with some wine, no- make that lots of wine & some cream sauce (for together they have been known to act as mad hatter potion) and i am on! question- do they weigh us before we go up the elevator on the eiffel tower? and as for the scarves, now i have no chance of eating or drinking while reading...yet smile to imagine you and i walking arm in arm down the streets of paris (paree) looking like "girlscoutbabushka twins", and turning many a head! via la hips and chips paired with inexpensive nubile B cup bras- this makes a thrifty fifty (year old) simply giddy...
keep 'em coming dorty...you are delightful in every way!
see...technophobe...kiva wrote that last post- not dorty..........HAHAHA!
A very funny vignette. I really enjoyed it.
Wonderful and somewhat scary story about Paris Fashion and women's bodies. A friend brought me a dress from Paris back in the 70s and it fit perfectly on my then-size 8 body. I have photos of it somewhere. Your hilarious report nails the current (global?) obsession with La Petite Femme. Why are stick figures supposed to be so glamorous? I truly suspect it's a strategy on the part of the Garment Industry to skimp on material and save money on production.
Thanks for giving me a Reality Check. I'll have to put away my dreams of someday looking stylish on the Left Bank. But you are right to keep on eating! I agree with other comments here. More stories from you, please!
Thank you again, Dorty. We'll be in Paris on the 17th and we have no intention of skipping dessert nor will we be trying on clothes. We'll just be inhaling your beautiful city and enjoying the sweetness we will find there -- confident that Charles Aznavour is right that "Paris Is At Her Best in May." I will continue my futile search for a French red wine that can live up to my taste for "round" California wines; even though I recognize that search to be hopeless. But, as ever, the journey is the goal, not the destination, eh? When the time is right, please write some more. — Dan