Who has to know I am Canadian?
I have been Frenching up my style lately, not that I actually know what French style is. I guess I won’t get the clear picture until I’m there. I am Frenching it up in my perceived vision of what that means. You know, very, feminine, modest, unique clothing pieces, a great item of jewelry to put the outfit together, high heels and a sprits of the amazing French perfume my BF’s mom brought me from France. A neat, rather than frizzy hairstyle, and a touch of light make-up. This really differs from my usual, quite casual style consisting of a pair of jeans and a top, a cute pair of flats, frizzy hair, and no make-up. I like to consider myself a naturalist in beauty which to me seems tres Canadian, but as I moving to France, why not go all out?
And when they ask me if I am French I develop a slight smirk on my face. I am way to honest to say I’m French. My usual response is, “No, I’m a full blown Canadian, but I am moving there shortly.” One day (hopefully) my answer will be “mais oui!”
Do I dislike being Canadian? Absolutely not. Nor does it mean anything to me to pretend to want to be French. I have absolutely no attachment to nationality whatsoever. I consider myself a global citizen and I like to try on the flavours of other cultures.
The benefit of trying on this French flavour is getting very excited for what France will actually present to me and I feel so confident and womanly in this new look! What is there not to love about it!
And note, the picture above is not me but an actual anonymous French girl I found on the world wide web.