A Practical Guide To Je Ne Sais Quoi
Ines de la Fressange
For as long as I’ve known Ines de la Fressange, I’ve never not wanted to dress exactly like her. I first met her in Paris in the late Eighties when she was a model for Chanel and was named the Marianne, the national emblem of France. Since then, I’ve run into her at fashion industry dinners or in the Roger Vivier showroom in Paris where she works alongside designer Bruno Frissoni as a brand ambassador. Every time I see Ines she is wearing some indescribably gorgeous piece of clothing, like an emerald green satin shirt, paired with some other, intensely colorful piece like midnight-blue velvet jeans. It’s hard enough to imagine conjuring these things to wear on a daily basis, and harding still, knowing that everything looks better on Ines because she has asparagus thin limbs, a singular Gallic slouch and a brilliant smile. Suffice it to say I’ve never met another 50-year-old woman who can pull off white jeans.
Yes, white jeans.
If you can summon the courage to ask her where she bought her shirt or pants or bag—in France such questions are considered gauche—Ines will shrug and say Monoprix or some off-price store in Toulouse where she happened to be last weekend. Friends who ask for her favorite Parisian addresses get a typed out list. The demand for this list has been so consistent over the years that Ines finally decided to turn it into a book, Parisian Chic (Flammarion, $29.95) which is now available in English. Now anyone can peek inside Ines’ personal address book and garner tips on how to achieve her ineffable nonchalance.
“When you have friends in a city it always makes it more interesting to know where they go,” Ines explains by phone from her pink office. (Light reflected off pink walls makes everyone look good.) “Everyone can find Dior on Avenue Montaigne.” But what you won’t find in other guidebooks are Ines’ favorites like Soeur, her secret source for tween clothing on the rue Bonaparte, or L’Atelier de Fred, her favorite Parisian cooking school, or Au Petit Matelot on the rue de la Grand Armée where she buys perfect fisherman’s sweaters.
The illustrations, drawn by Ines, are also a point of difference for the author. “I wanted lots of illustration in the book and lots of photos because so often with guidebooks there is just text, and then when you get to the place it’s disappointing.” With a mix of shapshots, fashion shots (the model is Ines’s eldest daughter, Nine), and drawings, the guide feels very much like a personal scrapbook. Peppered throughout are plenty of Ines’ personal style and beauty secrets: She changes her perfume every ten years; she applies foundation with her fingers, never a sponge; and she browses websites like rustyzipper.com for vintage handbags. We get secret tips from other style icons, too: Jackie Kennedy wore gloves from Causse on the rue de Castiglione; Catherine Deneuve goes to the movies at Le Salon du Cinéma de Panthéon in the 6th Arrondissement; when the Obamas are in town they like to eat at La Fontaine de Mars where, on Fridays, fresh farm chicken and mashed potatoes are de riguer.
Obviously, this is more than just a fashion guide. With addresses for the best Parisian florists, neighborhood restaurants, spas, hair salons, and even favorite offbeat museums, Ines covers the French capital. A chapter titled “Chez Moi” doles out practical tips on how to organize your closet (categorize your clothes, edit your wardrobe, and organize jewelry and accessories in clear plexi boxes,) along with addresses for Paris’s best lamp shop, radiator shop and dyed vintage linen shop.
Inside the French edition.
Beauty is another well-covered topic. Ines devotes an entire part of the book to “Timeless Beauty,” “The Price of Beauty” and “Beauty Faux Pas.” My favorite beauty tips are always the quirkiest, in this case they are listed in a sidebar simply titled “Three Beauty Secrets.” They are: pour three cups of white vinegar diluted in water on wet hair for gloss, drink carrot juice for beauty, and for a dazzling smile use plaque disclosing tablets from the pharmacy.
Most of Ines’ fashion tips are practical as opposed to trendy. “Fashion magazines always show the latest trends, but I have a lot of friends who wake up and don’t know what to wear,” Ines explains. “They are really busy, have to go to work, get the kids ready for school, the last thing they want is the latest trends.” According to Ines, when women try to make life less complicated they often sell themselves short. “They wear less makeup, less jewelry, they make less of an effort.”
She also firmly believes that women look better with age and she uses her fashion insider information to show women how to avoid the obvious pitfalls of age. “Fashion Botox” warns women against aging trends like printed dresses (they add ten years), or certain furs that can transform even a young fashionista into Cruella. Big clip on earrings, neon colors, and mini skirts are other post-50 no-no’s.
“I think when women get older, they make the mistake of going to stores that are appropriate to their age. They end up looking old and paying more,” she laughs. “You have to keep it young, you have to keep buying things like t-shirts from Uniqlo or shirts from military surplus stores. This is Parisian style, knowing how to mix a croc handbag with a jacket from a discount store.”
She outlines her definition of Parisian style in a six-point guide, including such maxims as “beware of good taste,” “goodbye bling,” and “worship no idol.” She also provides readers with a “what to wear when” guide, breaking down every occasion from country weekends to black tie dinners. For a cocktail party in an art gallery she suggests wearing a tuxedo jacket over worn-in jeans and accessorizing with a brightly colored clutch bag. For a black tie event she suggests tying a colored ribbon around the waist of a black dress (and she even gives us the best Parisian address for said ribbons: Mokuba on the rue Montmartre).
The fact that the book has been such a best-seller in France comes as no surprise to me, but Inès seems baffled by its success. “We sold more than Keith Richards’ biography and more than Harry Potter,” she says with her nonchalant laugh.
