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What so special about French men?
I once fell for a French boy. It was the summer after my first set of serious examinations at school- I was only fifteen. My two closest friends and I had set off to spend a week in France. We arrived in a tiny village on the South West coast about an hour out of Biarritz. I have never forgotten its rows of small cafes, the shops, the vastness of the white beach which lined the ocean but most importantly, I have never forgotten him. The frenchie. Admittedly, it was not one of those massively communicative relationships –this no doubt increased its charm as many of you will agree.
I am not the only one whose experience of France has been more than platonic. On the contrary, a great number of the women interviewed admitted to either having had a fling or a relationship with a French man. Those who have not had such an experience want one and could envisage themselves embarking upon a trans-Channel ‘aventure’ at some point in the future. One interviewee, who shall remain nameless for the sake of her new husband’s dignity, even stated that if she were to have an affair, she would undoubtedly have one with a French man because ‘that’s what you do, isn’t it?’
So the following question imposes itself: why do women find French men so attractive? Why are so many of our stars (think Jane Birkin with Serge Gainsbourg, Kylie Minogue with Olivier Martinez but also Kristin Scott-Thomas with Francois Olivennes and Eva Longoria with French basketball player Tony Parker) bagging themselves Frenchies?
Let us dispel the myths at once: French men are not necessarily better lovers (I say necessarily because that entirely depends on your experience of English men) , they are not all romantics and they are not all tortured intellectuals. Nevertheless, they do have a certain ‘je ne sais quoi’. Perhaps it is there confidence and their unashamed honesty about their interest in you, which makes them more appealing. It may just be exoticism, the element of the culturally alien or the romantic connotations of the Continent to which we associate them. Whatever it is, the French man consistently appears in our fantasies and indeed, our lives. There has to be more than geography to the duration of our Entente Cordiale.
It is a mystery which will perhaps forever remain unsolved. Nevertheless, it makes me laugh to think that whenever I remember the Frenchie leaning into my ear to tell me that I smelled ‘exqueesite’, my legs go weak...
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