The typical French woman wore tight designer jeans tucked into knee boots, a beautiful trench coat tied at the waist, a large piece of beautiful material wrapped around their neck, and a cigarette dangling from their fingers. The typical French teenager wore tight, tapered, jeans, a small trench coat, slip-on sneakers, and smoked a cigarette. I limped behind a group of them on my way to the Picasso museum in my slightly flared American designer jeans, canvas trench coat with no belt, and a pink and white striped scarf. I wore a pair of navy blue New Balance classics, my hair was puffy from the climate, and I stubbornly applied make-up even though in the Rick Steve’s guide he claims one should “take a break from make-up while traveling.” The men were prone to wearing suits to work, ties, Italian shoes, the works–no Casual Friday here. It was incredibly sexy seeing all these men walking to and from work with their ties flapping, designer trench coats open to reveal a fabulous suit underneath. My policy on no-tapered jeans was dwindling. No one had boot cut jeans…no one. Everywhere you looked you saw stove pipe pants, skinny jeans, and slim cuts. As a person who is used to being slightly up on fashion, it was disarming to look noticeably out of style compared to everyone at the Metro station.

How do the French do it? Are people drawn in by the numerous stores with gorgeous shoes, hats, and scarves in the windows? Is fashion a value like brushing your teeth and paying taxes? While trying on clothes in a store I was baffled by what size I was. Tops were okay, I mean, you can tell pretty easily if a top might fit you. I was relieved that I seemed to be a medium in European sizing. But I knew I was setting myself up for failure when I decided to try on a bunch of tapered jeans. If I was lucky I found the British sizing on the tag and, damn, what a way to make a girl feel huge. I wasn’t quite a 14 but a 12 seemed a little funky. I never got ‘designer enough’ to see if my standard 30-32 sizing would translate but I doubt it would have. Obviously the British don’t feel like pandering to the American standard of sizing clothing really big (hence I’m mysteriously a size 8 now).

I suppose I don’t need to state the obvious: Paris does not have a weight problem. I’m sure other parts of France are dealing with the curious phenomenon of an increase in French obesity. I did not see any of this. It’s safe to say that their moderate levels of weight are maintained by a few things: the absence of constant soft drink guzzling, smaller portions, the commitment to a lunch hour, and the passion people have for food and drink. The French are committed to food. Businesses will give their employees meal vouchers worth five euro to be used at local cafes and restaurants. They don’t want to see their little shops give way to large chain stores so they put their money where their mouth is–literally. Little tiny Walgreen-like stores that sell a variety of food and canned goods might be popping up randomly but that doesn’t mean their publicly scorned by the Parisians. The idea is simple: buy what you need from the deli, produce stand, and bakery–all are readily available on any given street. I can’t tell you how excited I was by this concept. I’ve wanted to live this way consistently for YEARS. Depending on where you live in the city, sometimes you can keep this going…but often time you’re resigned to weekly trips to the grocery store to save gas. Slowly the frozen food starts piling up and it becomes more and more intimidating to make a pot of soup from scratch.

Tying in with this concept was a ridiculous segment on Oprah about challenging people to ‘do without.’ We’re talking about America’s really ugly, consuming, wasteful side exposed for all the world to see. Families were challenged to not eat out, not use any of their electronics (except for homework and one hour of tv a day), no shopping, etc. Of course they chose the biggest, greediest, wealthiest family they could find and paraded them around like the pariah’s they truly were. Here’s Mom dumping a full box of cereal in the garbage because ‘it had been open for a few days.’ Watch big sister curl her hair, listen to her i-pod, text friends on her cell and instant message on her computer while watching TV, (Hello, big electricity bill!). Witness a five-year-old go through withdrawals because he was coming down off of five hours of Guitar Hero a day (one for each year of his life). The show was almost too unbearable to watch. Not just because I was still coming from a sense of smug, I’ve-seen-how-the-other-side-of-the-world-works, but because I’ve been raised on a pretty minimalist lifestyle of leftovers and homemade spaghetti sauce. I know this is the latest in our Green culture splash: exploiting our wasteful American attitudes, (and hurray for Oprah for banning paper cups in her monstrous production company). I’m very aware that she used extremist tactics to get the attention of the slothful, but I had a hard time seeing the other side and found myself shouting at the TV.

I know that it is the fear of all conservatives that we’re gonna get all French and dislike War, boycott China, and drive tiny cars. However, I do think we could take a page from the French and support minimal buying, push for more food education and preparation, and maybe think about where our garbage goes when we toss it. Besides, we can spend the money we save on designer, French made, shoes, right?