Design S.O.S.!

I need your help!  I am considering any of the following for a new banner for Polly-Vous Francais?  Do you like any (if so, which) or none?

Other thoughts in general on color scheme.  Font.  Or forget the whole concept?

 I hate design decisions.  I LOVE design decisions.

A vous, mes amis!

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Six years and counting

Break out the bubbly!

Wow.  Here I am, six whole years old, and ready to down the champagne.

I'm not picky, really, but it must be French. Veuve Clicquot will do quite nicely, though I won't turn down a Taittinger, Moet, or Nicolas Perrier. (Am I missing someone important?)

Yup, six years ago today Polly-Vous Francais? was born. It happened by accident, really.  I had been living in Paris for two months on place de la Madeleine, invading and soaking up the cultural and political life of Paris.  Then I found my dream apartment in the 7e arrondissement.  The student protests were all the news, and I was madly sending missives to all my friends detailing the drama and social thrill of my new Parisian existence.

Then, over dinner in Paris, my good friend A. said, "Polly, you really must stop sending all these stories in emails."

Ouch.

"Oh," I apologized, abashed.  "Are they tedious?"

"No, not at all -- but they need to be published on line instead, " she said.  "You need to start a blog."

"But, but... I don't know the first thing about blogging!"  I think I whined a fair bit, feeling technologically incompetent and ancient.

"Look, Polly," said A., all no-nonsense.  "If you... did have a blog, what would you call it?"

(Ah, a question I knew how to answer!)  "Polly-Vous Francais!" I said, maybe a bit too excitedly.  It had been my mantra ever since I understood my first French phrase.

We finished our dinner and our wine and parted ways for the evening.  The next morning, an email from A.  appeared in my in-box:  "Polly-Vous Francais? is up and running.  Start posting!"  She had created the blog for me.

I felt the wind knocked out of me.  It was like the time that the summer lifeguard/swimming coach forced me to jump off the high-dive. You can do it, you can do it.  Just plunge, just plunge.  Breathe later.

And voilà.

Polly-Vous Francais? has grown and morphed over the years, from A.'s great banner above, to a few variations.

I've written 920 posts.  The blog has had probably several million visitors in six years, but in today's internet stream, I can't begin to gauge the importance of that stat.  (For perspective:  when this blog began in May 2006, Facebook had about 7 million users, mostly college students.  Today?  Well, you know.)

Another Polly-Vous Francais banner, made with stamps from the Marché aux timbres.

Back in 2006, many of us bloggers in Paris felt as though we had a mission, but sometimes we felt misunderstood.   We wrote for the Paris Blog (many lucky ones, still in Paris, still do). We fed our feeds to the now-defunct Paris Times.  We gathered to celebrate our blogging life in Paris.  Sometimes I felt as though I were part of a new literary genre scene, and sometimes I felt as though it was just considered clown school.

I am really, really delighted to note that some of the official traditional Paris-based print journalists who had pooh-poohed the very notion of blogs back in 2006-7 are now the proud authors of blogs, Twitter feeds and Pinterest and Facebook pages.  They have hired their social media interns!! Kudos -- now we're all family.

I look forward to returning to Paris this summer to re-connect a) with my inner Polly-Vous, and b) with a lot of pals!  Time for a party.


And to say that I love you all!  

(Okay, almost all.  Except for a few anonymous commenters and so forth.  You know who you are.)


And tonight I nod off to bed, having blown out the six candles for my blog.

And the next burning question:  is it time for a new banner?  What do you recommend? Votes?

Paris Patterns #2

Paris is a constant kaleidoscope. Of course there is the magnificence of  the 'capital-a' Art, grand architecture, and masterful sculpture; but there is also the adrenaline rush of people-watching, le lèche-vitrines (window shopping), patterns, and 'small-a' art everywhere.

In homage to small-a Parisian art, here are more Paris Patterns.
This time more linear, angular.


Lattice-weave mosaics on a doorway of a residence near Vavin in the 6e arrondissement.


Screws and nails on display at the Marché aux puces at Vanves.


Ceiling at the Sainte Chappelle.


Exterior mosaic of a café on boulevard St. Germain in the 7e.




Windows of an office building at Montparnasse.

Markets of Paris

There are SOO many guide books to Paris.  We've seen 'em all.  N'est-ce pas?

So when I picked up Markets of Paris, in my jaded I-already-know-Paris frame of mind, I didn't have great expectations.

Boy, was I wrong!  Capital-W wrong.

This is a gem of a guide to Paris.

First of all, it is organized in the way that any guide to Paris should be, which is by arrondissement.  Second, it is more than just a guide to the open air food markets in Paris, but rather includes all shopping centers that you could want to visit, from la Grande Epicerie to the Marché aux Timbres and exquisite covered marketplaces such as Galerie Vivienne, and all my other favorite passages couverts.


Oh, did I mention that it is a gem?

It's a gem!

For example, rather than try to have the book serve as a map, the authors recommend the best map book, Paris Pratique, to use in conjunction with the book.  So true!  I never have been able to properly navigate  Paris without a couple of handy guides:  one is never enough.  And, at about 6 by 6 inches, Markets of Paris is petite enough to carry in your bag, but chock-full of information to keep you busy reading while you wait for the RATP bus to take you to your next destination.  It's a big book in a little book's hide.  This and Paris Pratique are all you need.

The book has so much practical information, including even a list of "Helpful Books, Blogs, and Websites" to visit to enrich your Paris market experience -- all of which I heartily endorse.


From small organic food markets to popular flea markets, bargains to luxe, the markets  and material covered in this book make it a definite keeper.

I can't wait to return to Paris this summer and use it as my guide.

Michelin heads to the burbs

Famous French tire-and restaurant-guide company Michelin is packing its bags and moving out of Paris.

Not far, but to nearby lovely Boulogne, according to the spokesperson for Michelin.  The company's HQ is still in Clemont-Ferrand; but, since its inception in 1889 it's always had a Paris office. First avenue Pereire, then in 1967 the company purchased the building at 46 avenue de Breteuil in the 7e arrondissement.

No more!   Michelin has just sold the building to an insurance company for 110 million euros.

I love Boulogne.  But it must be a jolt for one of France's most iconic companies to exit from avenue de Breteuil, one of the classiest neighborhoods in Paris.

Bibendum will learn to drive to work, no doubt.

Image via lalsace.fr

Les zizis de Paris

The moment I happened upon the book Les Zizis de Paris, several years ago, I was smitten.  Not because of the subject per se (though what's not to love?!), but because I delighted in imagining a similar book in an Anglo-Saxon museum bookshop.  Maybe there is one and I just don't know about it, but I'm not holding my breath.  As a culture, I think, we Americans in general are just more disposed to be prudish/woo-hoo about such matters, as opposed to dealing with the subject matter with an appreciative nod and a wink.

Zizi is the French equivalent of wee-wee,  or weenie or what-have-you.  I find it quite adorable as a name for male parts.

I found this charming and entertaining photography book in a museum store of one of the museums of the city of Paris.  Not hidden hush-hush in a brown wrapper in a corner, but prominently displayed with other guides to Paris.  And indeed, it is a pictorial guide to male nude public statues.  What?  Oh yes, of course I bought it!

So, big deal.  It's Art.  No fig leaves.  It's France.  It's the human body.  Deal with it.  Enjoy it.

But I did get a chuckle out of the juxtaposition of the accompanying standard web language on the website for the book...

Bringing Up Bebe: A Conversation with Pamela Druckerman

Like many Americans who move to France, I have always been surprised to observe the differences in behavior between French and American kids. Seeing a 9-year-old confidently take the RATP bus alone to her music lesson. A 4 year old patiently guarding her baby brother in the stroller at the front of the store while their mom dashed for once forgotten item at the back of the Monoprix. Kids sitting at dinner tables, engaging in conversation.

So you can imagine my delight when I saw that Bringing Up Bébé had just been published. I had met author Pamela Druckerman at the American Library in Paris a few years ago. And we've kept up a bit since then. I was delighted when she was able find time for me to interview her. I just had to know more about the creation of this latest tour de force in deciphering the differences between French and American cultures.




Polly-Vous Francais: You write about so many wonderful epiphanies in Bringing Up Bébé. Was there one "aha!" moment in particular that stands out? A personal favorite?

Pamela Druckerman: I think it was the moment when a French girlfriend of mine saw my daughter, who couldn’t even stand up on her own at the time, pulling books off our bookshelves (for some reason she always pulled down the travel books - go figure). I hadn’t thought there was anything I could do about this irritating habit of my daughter’s. She couldn’t even talk! But my friend got down on the carpet with my daughter and said, very gently: We don’t do that. We leave the books on the shelves. Then she showed my daughter how to push them back in. To my surprise, my daughter never pulled the books down again. After that, I realized that I could teach my daughter things like that, and she could integrate them. It was a revelation.

PVF: How did you settle on the title? Were there other contenders for the title?

PD: I wanted to call the book Paris is Burping. My editor said what editors say when they are trying to be polite: "Let’s make it a chapter title."

PVF: Nice! I like that one. [Thinking how to translate that title...] And will the book be translated into French? Would you consider returning as a guest on (my favorite French TV show) Le Grand Journal to discuss the differences between French and American parenting?

PD: Yes, the French edition is scheduled for January 2013. Title TBD. Do you handle bookings for Le Grand Journal? :)

PVF: No, but I sat in the audience once. I hope they invite you back for a debate about French/American parenting styles. That would be an entertaining conversation! For example, which of the French parenting methods do you think you've had the hardest time accepting or adopting?

PD: I can't get used to the 5-day field trips for first graders. But I'm going to have to. My daughter starts primaire next year. And though I say “It’s me who decides,” I don’t always automatically believe it. I have to sort of rev up my inner CEO. I’m naturally picky, but I’m not naturally bossy.

PVF: Which was the easiest?

PD: It was cutting out snacks, except for the one in the afternoon. It made the rest of the day flow better. Now when my kids sit down to eat, they're actually hungry.

PVF: Do you think there is a difference between French and American attachment objects (infamous doudous in France, in U.S., blankies or what-have-you)?

PD: I'm not sure. French parents do tend to have long Freudian explanations for why their kids have attachment objects. Whereas American parents would just say the blanket or the stuffed animal is comforting.

PVF: Okay, what about French children and correct posture? Any observations? How about faire la bise?

PD: I didn't look at posture at all (though I’m sitting up straighter as I write this). Please do tell, and I'll get that into the paperback! As for "faire la bise," I probably should have mentioned that too. What are your views?

PVF: Well, I once observed a French friend feeding her 18-month-old in his highchair. She simply cooed "Tiens-toi comme il faut, mon trésor" ("sit up straight, sweetheart") before she would give him the next bite, and it worked like a charm. La bise, of course, will take a whole chapter to discuss: up to what age a child must give a cheek kiss to a visitor, etc. So much to think about! All things considered, if you could start out your own childhood again, would you rather be raised à la française?

PD: I would change nothing at all about my own childhood. And I'm not just saying that because my mother is probably reading this.

Seriously, I think like many American women I wish I had developed a healthier relationship to food early on, instead of a guilt-based one. I wish I had learned how to savor one cookie, instead of needing to eat all eight of them.

PVF: Are there any French movies that might have some examples that illustrate the difference between French and American childhoods? (The Elegance of the Hedgehog comes to mind, but perhaps others)?

PD: On a recent flight to America I watched a wonderful French film called Un Heureux événement about a French couple that meets and has a baby, and how this affects their relationship. At one point during the mother’s pregnancy, she asks the doctor whether it’s okay to swallow semen. The doctor replies: Yes, it’s very nutritious. But of course it shouldn’t be the baby’s only food!

PVF: Hahhaha! Excellent. Okay, er, switching gears here, tell me, where do you write in Paris? Favorite spots? Favorite parks to go avec enfants?

PD: I write at home or at an office that I share with seven French journalists. I'm their token foreigner. I also write in cafes sometimes, though it’s hard to find one with the right combination of laptop friendliness, good coffee, good writing vibe, and a power outlet.

With kids, I love the Tuilleries, which has in-ground trampolines and a very imaginative, sculptural playground. One of the great things about Paris is that there are playgrounds all over the place. There’s usually at least one within walking distance. And there are wonderful film festivals just for kids.

PVF: Do you think that WWAFMD* will become a household mantra?

PD: Well since I had to read that acronym five times before I figured out what it stood for, probably not! I do think a new conventional wisdom about parenting is gradually emerging in America, and that it overlaps in some ways with the French style (date nights, having kids eat more interesting foods, teaching patience…). But whatever the next phase is in America, it's not going to be a carbon copy of French or Chinese or Eskimo parenting. It will be its own house blend.

PVF: Pamela, thanks so much for taking the time to chat. This might seem totally random as a closing question, but I personally think it's related: Do you think French dogs are exceptionally well behaved, too?

PD: How did you know? That's my next book! Though if French dogs were really were so well behaved, they wouldn't leave their poop on the sidewalk.




*What Would A French Mother Do?