Fiona Alderman ‘Ze French Touch’
What is it about the French that they have a je ne sais quoi about them ?
From early years the children even have a confidence and look that is completely unique to the French. Watching a family with small children in a café, they are all talking animatedly and include the children in conversation treating them almost as adults. French women have something subtle in the way they dress too, with attention to detail, nothing extravagant but just elegant. I always notice things like a beautiful handbag or some shoes that are quite different that I can’t begin to copy. A French women will dress to please not only her “homme “ but also to please herself. Her style can be coquettish but never vulgar. I think the result is chic in our eyes. Our mayor has a way of wrapping his sweater loosely over his shoulders so that it almost looks as if it is pinned in place! It never moves. It is an art in itself.
The expression “The French Touch” first began in 1990 with the advent of French House music, a blend of electro funk , synthesizers and a group called Daft Punk with two musicians disguised in futuristic silver helmets. The DJ David Guetta also held huge rave parties and introduced dance music to the masses.
However in the world of advertising and marketing this French touch would go further. From beauty firm Lancôme with its range “Le French Touch” and cars like the Renault Clio, Twingo and Mégane all had this logo.
It was a new wave of excellence in all things French which would produce original talent and above all quality.
French actors going to Hollywood, like Jean Dujardin in The Artist and Marion Cotillard in La Mome (Edith Piaf) are now internationally recognized as this very particular case of “Ze French Touch”.
Why do we say, by the way, a French manicure, French dressing and French polishing?
In The Picture
This month’s tribute goes to the photojournalist Henri Cartier Bresson, who began a journey that would transform 20th century photography. Born in 1908 into a bourgeois Parisian family that encouraged him in his fascination from an early age in painting. He went to Cambridge University to study art, literature and English and it is as an artist to begin with, that helped to form his photos later on.
During the war he went underground, working with other photographers to cover the Occupation of Paris and eventually the Liberation of it too. With his Leica 35 mm camera , encased in black to render it less conspicuous , he could be discrete, maybe pass unseen by others and in a split second he would capture what he wanted. It was called “the decisive moment” his street photography of daily life that had a human touch. He formed the famous Magnum Photo Agency in 1947 as a co operative with other photographers such as Robert Capa, David Seymour, George Rodger and William Vandivert.
He travelled the world for his photography, to Warsaw, New York, Madrid, India,Prague and Berlin before even his native France would he be recognized. Working for Life magazine , his cool approach and precision would render his images forever.
One year before his death in 2003, the Fondation Bresson was set up in Montparnasse in Paris. Renovated in an artist’s studio, it is an elegant building, full of light , to conserve and continue his work. www.henricartierbresson.org The photo for this paragraph is inspired by one of his photos and was taken by my partner of 30 years, Barry Paton. It was for a piece of choreography I once did called “In the Picture “.
How many ways to say I love you?
Our beloved cat called Mo was ill recently and we had to take her to the vet. Vets in France are not cheap but she is worth every centime. Now 15 years old she is very special to us. I was thinking of all the little pet names we give her and also to our loved ones. Like ma beauté, meaning my beauty, or mon coeur, my heart, or ma chérie my darling.
Other more obscure ones are ma puce , my thumb ,mon poulet, literally my chicken, or mon chou , my cabbage!
The funniest ones I found were mon sucre d’orge, my barley sugar and mon trognon, my apple core and mon raleur , my grumpy one! A French friend calls me “ma cocotte” which is a pressure cooker or rather nicer my dear one.
That’s it for this month. Shall catch up with you next time.
Fifi’s story from rural France . July 2016.
www.salignacfoundation.com Dance and film courses in the Dordogne.
This section: Fiona Alderman blogging from The Salignac Foundation France
Related Pages
- Fiona Alderman Blogging from Rural France – The Black Duck
- Fiona Alderman’s Blog: Salignac or Sillygnac?
- Fiona Alderman : Greetings from Salignac
- Fiona Alderman’s Blog: Pictures and Short Stories
- Fiona Alderman: November Blues
- Fiona Alderman: Blogging from Rural France – Waiting for Godot
- Fiona Alderman Blog: Cafe´Talk
- Fiona Alderman: Fetes Galore
- Fiona Alderman’s Blog: Les Voyages de Monsieur Barry
- Fiona Alderman: Another Month in Salignac
- Fiona Alderman: One Year Later
- A New Season in Salignac
- Fiona Alderman: La Poste and other French things
- Fiona Alderman Blogging from Salignac, France
- Fiona Alderman’s Blog: The End of the Holidays
- Fiona Alderman: Christmas is Coming
- Fiona Alderman’s blog: One Evening in Salignac
- Fiona Alderman: Final Farewells
- Fiona Alderman: Fêtes Galore
- Fiona Alderman: Another Place in History
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