How to Be Parisian: Don’t Drop the Attitude

Stephen reveals the usefulness of a little Parisian arrogance.

People say we Parisians are pushy and arrogant, which is not fair. It’s entirely true, but it’s not fair – because saying it just reminds us to behave even more like Parisians and annoy everyone. Then again, without wishing to encourage anyone to infuriate their loved ones, taking on a few Parisian traits in your everyday life can be a fantastic help. For example, a friend of mine uses her in-bred sense of entitlement to overcome one of the most blatant injustices in modern life – the lack of ladies’ toilets.

There are plenty of public toilets in Paris, mainly those famous stand-alone, self-cleaning loos with a city map on the outer wall. These are a French invention, conceived 40 years ago by JCDecaux. I looked at their website and they boast that with 15 million users every year, the 435 toilets in Paris are the most visited places in Europe”. So much for the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre.

Fake it till you make it

Anyway, these toilets are not popular with my Parisian friend. She knows that not all the users are freshly-showered tourists in need of a swift hygiene break. There are also homeless people who use the cabins as an HQ for a variety of activities that are best left untold. So my friend applies her Parisianness. She will simply waltz into a large café and head straight for the toilettes. It is obvious to any onlooker that she is perfectly entitled to do so. The snootiest waiter wouldn’t dare to question her.

It’s all in the attitude, that Parisian way of barging shamelessly towards your goal in life. Look entitled enough and you become entitled. Having a Parisian attitude can also provide immunisation against other people’s assertiveness. For example, I recently survived a terrifying encounter with a Norman masseuse. It sounds a lot more exciting than it was. I went to a seaside spa after a bout of lumbago, the writer’s occupational hazard. I’m terribly last-minute, so I turned up at the hotel at 5pm and asked the receptionist if there was any chance of an immediate back massage.

After the statutory “oh là là, you haven’t reserved!” objections, she said, “if you go straight to the spa now, you can have a 30-minute modelage.” They don’t use the word massage anymore. These days, you get remodelled. I dashed along and was sitting in the corridor when a lady in green nurse-style pyjamas walked by and asked, more or less politely, what I was doing there. It’s true, I was in street clothes rather than the obligatory robe.

It pays to be pleasant

When I told her, she groaned, “vous êtes un rajout.” I was, like Prince Harry, a spare. My British genes urged me to say, “oh, sorry, would you prefer me to come back tomorrow?” But my Parisian antibodies butted in, “I just booked 30 minutes at reception.” She wasn’t beaten yet. “It’s 25 minutes,” she said. “There’s five minutes’ preparation time.

“Maybe you ought to tell your receptionist,” I said. “She told me I was paying for a half-hour of massage.” Now I know that it’s suicidal to aggravate anyone who is about to manipulate your body parts. So I injected a top-up dose of krypto-Parisianism which can save situations. When you are barging towards someone else’s toilets, or haggling with a masseuse, you always stay pleasant. You’re an arrogant Parisian, but a pleasantly arrogant one. So I added, “my back is very painful. Even if you can only manage one minute, I’m sure it will do me the world of good.”

“Venez,” she told me, and went on to give me skilful lumbar relief for 22 minutes. Never in history have the Normans ever let the Parisians win a complete victory.

From France Today Magazine

Stephen Clarke’s new book, Charles Frederick Worth, the Englishman Who Invented Parisian Haute Couture, will be published in April.