No need for discretion. France recently marked the 50th anniversary of its law authorizing the sale and use of contraceptives. Adopted in December 1967, it is known as the Neuwirth Law, after Member of Parliament Lucien Neuwirth. Neuwirth had fought for nearly a decade beforehand for the right to contraceptive use, supporting and supported by the Family Planning Movement.

That movement was created in 1956 under the name La Maternité Heureuse (Happy Motherhood). In 1960 it was renamed Mouvement Français pour Le Planning Familial (French Movement for Family Planning), or Le Planning Familial (Family Planning) for short. Family Planning and its motto Liberté, Egalité, Sexualité gained visibility and strength as the 1960s progressed. Liberté, Egalité, Sexualité, now there’s a good reason for all of us to get in touch with our inner Parisienne.

The postal service commemorated the law’s 50th anniversary with a stamp dedicated to Neuwirth and showing three ages of women. The image of the three women is a stylized version of a prominent Family Planning poster of 1978 which bore the words “un enfant… si je veux… quand je veux” (a child… if I want… when I want.).

The Neuwirth Law primarily aimed to overturn the Law of 1920 that prohibited any action, advertisement or propaganda in favor of abortion or contraception. That post-war law had been passed on the premise that, with some 1.4 million French war dead, laws preventing further depopulation trumped a woman’s or a couple’s right to choose. So while the pill, that great liberating force in the sexual revolution, had been a hit in the United States since the early 1960s, it couldn’t play that role in France as long as the earlier law stood guard.

(As an interesting contrast on the timeline of nations, 1920 is the year that women obtained the right to vote in the U.S.; it took another world war for women in France to be granted that right, first exercised during the elections of 1945. Meanwhile, Planned Parenthood remains under attack in the U.S..)

Abortion was legalized by the Veil Law of January 1975, put forth by then-health minister Simone Veil. Since 2001 abortion has been allowed until 12 weeks of pregnancy and parental authorization for minors is no longer required.

The pill remains queen despite waning influence

In France, according to a research paper published (in English) to coincide with the 50th anniversary, 83% of women of childbearing age use contraception. A 2014 U.S. Center for Disease Control (CDC) brief indicates that 62% of American women ages 15 to 44 use contraception.

Whereas, according to the French paper, 43% percent of contraception in United States involves sterilization (tubular occlusion for women, vasectomy for men), with about third being male sterilization, only 5% of contraception in France involves sterilization, with the percentage of male sterilization being negligible. The CDC brief gives different figures for the U.S. but nevertheless finds female sterilization (15.5%) nearly on par with use of the pill (16% in terms of percentage). Vasectomy (male sterilization) is not covered in that brief but where elsewhere reported the number performed in the U.S. is significantly higher than in France.

The pill, by contrast, is by far the contraceptive method of choice in France as it represents more than 40% of all contraceptive method use. That, however, represents about a 20% decrease over the past decade, with the initial decline largely attributed to the possible risks associated with recent generations of the pill.

The French health system supports contraception: implants, IUDs, diaphragms and some contraceptive pills are reimbursable (65%) through the national system, as is access to the morning-after pill. Those same contraceptive methods and the corresponding medical consultation (doctor’s office, school infirmary) are free to minors of at least 15, without need for parental notification.

In France, male condom use (often combined with female oral contraception) has increased since the HIV epidemic in the 1980s, representing about 15%. Condoms are non-reimbursable but are rather inexpensive.

Women who have left their oral contraceptive at home when traveling abroad to France would typically need to see a doctor for a prescription. A pharmacist, however, might help, particularly with the morning-after pill, called la pilule du lendemain or la contraception d’urgence in French

If you or your partner has packed FDA-approved condoms, rest assured that they will make it through customs even if they don’t bear the EU stamp of approval. But why ruin the fun of shopping overseas.

The Condom King, Le Roi de la Capote

The French word for a condom is un preservatif or, colloquially, une capote. (It used to be more commonly called une capote anglaise or English bonnet/hood/overcoat, as the English, upholding their side of tit-for-tat terminology, would refer to a condom as a French letter or French tickler for the fanciful kind).

The word condom will likely be understood in Paris, but ask for a condom in southwest France and you risk being given directions to the charming town of the same name, in Armagnac country, midway between Bordeaux and Toulouse. Condom the town would rather that travelers associate it with the architectural appeal of its cathedral and cloister and with the culinary and cultural appeal of Gascony rather than with French letters, though many an English-speaking traveler has undoubted entered the town on the snick of its name alone.

The town aside, France’s premier destination for all things condom is in Paris and online at Le Roi de la Capote, the Condom King, a shop created and owned by Marc Pointel. Pointel opened Le Roi de la Capote as an online shop in 2005 and eight years later opened a brick-and-mortar, rather a latex-and-gel shop in Paris’s 11th arrondissement. Seventy percent of its sales are online, while it’s the 30% of in-store sales that Pointel sees as a sign of its success. The store is located at 106 boulevard Richard Lenoir in the 11th arrondissement.

This is not a sex shop. It is a bright, open, come-one-come-all parapharmacie, a type of shop that sells health products but not medication.

Classic mass-market condoms are no more expensive here than in any grocery store in Paris (the other place to purchase them, along with pharmacies and parapharmacies), perhaps even less as is the case if you wish to stock up on a 300-pack at 0.10€ per condom for the traveling optimist or that special New Year’s party. (Note: condoms typically carry a 5-year expiration date.) Single condoms are sold for as little as 0.20€. The most expensive condoms here come out to about 1.50€ each. A small price to pay, says Pointel, for the serenity of knowing that you and your partner are protected, not planning on conceiving just then, and having great pleasure.

The French nevertheless complain about condom prices, Pointel notes, because they don’t like to pay for anything medical related.

The Condom King is the exclusive retailer in France of My One Perfect Fit (formerly They Fit) condoms, an American brand that comes in 56 sizes. A paper ruler is available to properly measure oneself or one’s partner (at home). Various types of lubricants are also available as are hygiene products and massage oils. You’ll also find some a few playful objects, including cheering but non-protective condoms (seen at top of article), such as an Eiffel Tower condom, perhaps something to offer one’s lover as a way of saying “we’ll always have Paris… without STDs.” See the website the list of products sold by the King.

While the items sold at the Condom King may lead to good fun between the sheets, Pointel recognizes their role—and his own—in helping to promote sexual health. Furthermore, the condom, since it involves at least two people, has a social role, even if that role presents itself intimately between the two. “The condom,” he says, “is the tree that hides the forest [of many public health issues].”

Erectile and other sexual problems and concerns have many roots, he says, and the best place to start is by having someone to speak with about it. “I manage to destress those who are stressed when they enter,” he says. Indeed, Pointel has the assured sense of humor to help put anxious clients at ease and the proper discretion to allow those entering the king’s domain to shop unassisted if they prefer.

He tells of an athlete in his twenties who said that condoms keep him from having an erection and a 30-year-old woman (20% of his clients are women) who said that she’d never had an organism. “It takes nerve to say that,” he says, “and once said it should be discussed.”

Even for online sales, Pointel says, many people will call before ordering, and their calls often fall into a “grey zone” between requests for purchasing advice, as other merchants might receive, and requests for information about sexual health. While he cannot by law physically examine or diagnose clients, he recognizes that during such calls or in-store conversation, the individual is seeking a form of consultation, speaking of matters that he or she may not yet have broached with a medical professional or a therapist. He fully accepts his role in listening to the individual’s symptoms and complaints and in suggesting, nudging or guiding the person, if possible, to speak with a medical or therapy specialist, or simply to correct any sexual myths or misconceptions.

(Pointel isn’t always at the front of the shop since his office and storage facility for online orders are in the back. While his assistants are quite capable, those looking for advice shouldn’t hesitate to ask if he is available. He’s fluent in English.)

Recognizing his unique position on the frontline of health issues, Pointel, who had previously studied sexology, recently completed further studies in sexual health. In June 2017 he obtained a University Degree (D.U. in French—a type of master’s degree) in the matter from the Paris-Diderot Medical School. His thesis was entitled “How and within what limits does a related and specialized parapharmacy participate in the promotion of sexual health? Practical situations and ethical questions.”

Unfortunately, he says, “the Anglo-Saxon puritanism of the major players of the Internet (GAFAM: Google, Apple, Facebook, Amazon and Microsoft)” consider Le Roi de la Capote’s website as an “adult site” or an “adults only site,” meaning that it may assimilated with pornography.

“We’re considered to be selling ‘adult products’ whereas the condom is a key element of public health,” he says. “It’s also a tool that should be associated with pleasure. We need to ‘re-eroticize’ the condom. Thinking only in terms of protection can cause stress, and we don’t make love when we’re stressed.”

But the Condom King can only do so much for the sex lives of our perfect pouty-lipped Parisienne. La Parisienne has a lot going for her, says Pointel, “but the mouth is the first sex organ that one encounters, and she doesn’t smile enough.”

Le Roi de la Capote, 106 boulevard Richard Lenoir, 11th arr. Metro Oberkampf or Parmentier. Tel. 01 42 38 60 40. Closed Sunday.

© 2018, Gary Lee Kraut

The post Contraception in France, where the Pill is Queen, and the Condom King appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

It was in the 1960s that the rehabilitation of the Marais took off, thanks to Malraux’s Bill (La loi Malraux) initiated in 1962 by President De Gaulle’s Minister of Culture. It didn’t happen overnight and for a while property remained affordable (that was the time to buy) and courtyards wide open to outsiders (that was the time to visit). It took the Autumn Festival of classical music (alas no more) to bring the magnificent heritage of the Marais to the attention of the public and to nudge the public authorities into restoring it.

Today the Marais is a secret to no one and is saturated with day trippers and tourists on weekends and holidays. La Place des Vosges is the most expensive square in Paris, as it was right from the beginning, the city’s first open-air square — La Place Royale —, inaugurated in 1612 on the occasion of the double betrothal of Louis XIII to Anne of Austria and of their respective siblings.

Surrounded in neat order by 36 brick-and-stone townhouses, these were occupied by the most prestigious families of the nobility, among them the maternal family of Madame de Sévigné, the great letter writer who was born at no. 1. Or the Duc de Sully, the retired Minister of the murdered Henri IV, who resided on the  southwest corner of the square, no. 7, now the French Heritage Trust (Caisse des Monuments Historiques), complete with an excellent bookshop. His daughter married into the great Rohan family, several members of which lived in this palace in the years that followed.

A branch of the Rohan family, married to the equally great Guénémée, resided at no. 6, on the southeastern corner of the square. It was a fabulous palace “all gilded and painted by Cotelle,” whose sketchbook of the drawings were made for this palace is now kept at the Ashmolean Library in Oxford.

The splendor was gone by the time Victor Hugo lived in this townhouse (1832 -1848), now his museum. So was the lovely garden. For after the court moved to Versailles (1682), the Parisian aristocracy shifted its centre of gravity west, causing the remote Marais to decline. The French Revolution dealt it a final blow; which is why Victor Hugo could afford to occupy an entire townhouse at this address. It is also during the French Revolution that the square was renamed after the Vosges, a thank-you gift to the newly created department (district) in eastern France for being the first to pay its taxes to the new republic.

Today Dominique Strauss-Kahn, now famous outside of France for the Sofitel chambermaid affair, and his wife Anne Sinclair reside on the Place des Vosges, in a 240 square-meter (2583 square-foot) apartment, though not a full townhouse. You would have to belong to the uppermost financial echelon to own a full-size townhouse in this kind of neighborhood, like the ruling family of Qatar for example, the new proprietors of the listed Hôtel Lambert on the eastern edge of the Ile Saint-Louis, now undergoing major restoration.

Apart from sharing this superb address in two different time zones, Victor Hugo and DSK, reports have it, also shared an insatiable sexual appetite. Victor Hugo was the most notorious fornicator of 19th-century France, resisting neither glamorous actresses nor humble chambermaids. During his time on Place des Vosges he seduced la petite boulangère from the corner bakery still standing on rue du Petit-Musc, south of rue Saint-Antoine. A back staircase in his study allowed him to repair unseen to his rendezvous by way of the Impasse Guénémée. I knew nothing about Victor Hugo’s connection to the boulangerie when I was a student round the corner in the early 1970s, and bought here occasionally my pains au chocolat and baguettes. The hotel across the street where the two of them retired was demolished in the 1950s.

DSK was thrown into jail, publicly humiliated and castigated, perhaps career-wise ruined. Victor Hugo was adulated as a national hero and honored with the biggest funeral ever held in the capital. Two million Parisians gathered along its itinerary, all the way from the Arc de Triomphe to the Panthéon.

Other members of the Rohan family lived at the magnificent no. 87 rue Vieille du Temple west of Place des Vosges, now part of the National Archives. Between 1766 and 1778  they had Caron de Beaumarchais as a neighbor, now no. 47 of the street, the Hôtel Amelot de Bisseuil, alas invisible from the street behind its splendidly carved doors that won’t yield.

The son of a watchmaker, turned arms dealer, Beaumarchais founded here the Rodriguez and Hortalez Company for the purpose of selling arms to the budding American nation in its fight against the English. He also used his time here to compose an opera and, more  famously, to write a play, Le Mariage de Figaro, better known internationally in Mozart’s operatic version, a satire on the popular theme of troussage de domestique (the rolling up of a female servant’s skirts) as the journalist Jean-François Kahn (JFK) referred to the DSK affair.

Although they have the same family name, the journalist is no relation of the ex-head of the IMF, but he does happen to be a long-standing friend of his wife. This exacerbated the furor caused by his comment which sounded as though he was condoning DSK’s demeanor because it’s culturally commonplace and traditionally played down. Not so Beaumarchais who, most daringly in his play, on the eve of the French Revolution, questioned the right of a nobleman to the thighs of his female servant (le droit de cuissage), an audacity for which he was briefly jailed by order of the king.

Hailing from 21 Place Royale half a century earlier, the Duc de Richelieu and great nephew of Cardinal Richelieu bragged about his sex life with all the female residents of the square. At times the duke could be violent, notorious for experimenting with his victims on his famous armchair. The Duke went on to seduce the regent’s daughters and their cousin, but when he carried off three of regent’s mistresses, the latter had him removed from Paris by appointing him Ambassador to Vienna.

Incidentally, Mozart too stayed in the Marais, in the magnificently restored Hôtel de Beauvais, at 68 rue François Miron. The palace was built for Catherine Belier, Anne of Austria’s lady-in-waiting and better known to history as Cateau la Borgnesse (one-eyed Kate), a gift from the Queen for having initiated young Louis XIV to the facts of life! A century later seven-year-old Mozart stayed here with his father and sister Nennerl. The threesome was the guests of the Ambassador of Bavaria, Count Van Eyck, whose residence this was. Today this is the Administrative Court of Appeal which graciously keeps the courtyard open to the public. On its façade can be seen the carved heads of Cateau and of Anne of Austria. On your next visit to the Marais, don’t forget to drop by.

Thirza Vallois is the author of Around and About Paris, Romantic Paris and Aveyron, A Bridge to French Arcadia. Around and About Paris, Volume 1 is now available on Amazon as an ebook.

Thirza’s selection of businesses that enjoy the patina of time and/or are well-known landmarks:

Fine lodging, a 4-star hotel:
Hôtel Pavillon de la Reine. 28 Place des Vosges, 3rd arrondissement. Tel 01 40 29 19 19.

Fine dining, Bernard Pacaud’s 3-Michelin-starred restaurant:
L’Ambroisie. 9 Place des Vosges, 4th arrondissement. Tel. 01 42 78 51 45.

Dining with a side dish of operatic singing:
Bel Canto. 72 quai de l’Hôtel de Ville, 4th arrondissement. Tel. 01 42 78 30 18.

A favorite timeless old-time tearoom:
Le Loir dans la Théière. 3 rue des Rosiers, 4th arrondissement. Tel. 01 42 72 90 61.

Tequila, margaritas, guacamole, nachos, quesadillas, and perhaps a smattering of beautiful people:
La Perla. 26, rue François Miron, 4th arrondissement. Tel. 01 42 77 59 40.

The post Seduction, Wealth and the Skirt-Chasers of the Marais appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

What’s not to enjoy?

So why is it that male execs in Paris on business often leave on a Friday afternoon or arrive on a Monday morning rather than stay the weekend? Ask them and they’ll respond with a lie: no time, company won’t pay for the extra night, got to be home for my kid’s soccer game.

Women will stay the extra day to go shop for shoes, to hell with the soccer game.

Truth is, guys don’t like to stay the weekend alone because they know that if they have too much free time in a plush hotel they will either be incredibly lonely or will get themselves in trouble, or both. Because for all their comfort and service and accessories, a night in a fine hotel can seem like a waste when a guy’s not getting laid, pardon my French.

Dominique Strauss-Kahn, was arrested, on a Saturday. Duh!

Given the risks of self-flagellating loneliness, last-night-in-town desperation and the belief (his own and others’) that a sojourn in a plush hotel makes a man more attractive, it’s only natural to stumble upon a hot hotel employee fantasy when traveling alone.

(No one has receptionist fantasies in such hotels; receptionists are bill-pay people, not fantasy material, unlikely to be tipped or winked at or groped.)

Those of us who review luxury hotels know how important it is to test 2 a.m. room service by saying that your mini-bar doesn’t have the right kind of Champagne or that the TV doesn’t seem to be working, and then to open the door in a loosely tied bathrobe. Or is it just me?

Kidding!

Employees in luxury hotels are trained to be obligingly discrete and to let you know with an eloquent nod and a slight smile that you’ve come to the right place and that you belong there by virtue of your inner beauty. Hotel employees in return have their own rich client fantasies

A solitary traveler is therefore prone to believe that they like him, they really like him, and that each employee’s smile-and-nod is a secret message letting him know that he’s been recognized him for his true worth and that he can ask that employee for most personal and discreet attention.

They all start to look like geisha girls and call boys after a while.

It’s not always easy for a guy to distinguish between the lap of luxury and the lap-dance of luxury. But most of us manage.

© 2011, Gary Lee Kraut

Theatrical endnote: The DSK-inspired debate about macho Frenchmen or men of power often ignores the fact that high luxury hotels can be fertile ground for high-end prostitution.

I’ve little interest in the debate itself, to tell the truth, but imagining scenarious in the DSK-case has inspired me to outline a French farce of that kind that has a long run in Paris theaters:

A man alone in a luxury suite calls his familiar prostitution agency and asks for them to satisfy his fantasy of sex with a black chambermaid. (French farces tend not to be concerned about an appearance of racism so “black” would be an essential part of his request.) The agency says that they have just the girl for him, she’ll be over in 30 minutes, and they’ll have no problem getting her up to his room. Then, while the man is waiting (note to director: it’s funnier if he’s in his bathrobe) and the hired girl is still in a taxi putting on her chambermaid costume, a real black chambermaid with her own quirks and secrets enters the room. The man assumes that she’s the hired prostitute, playing her role by pretending to be shocked by his advances, and…

The post Sex and the Luxury Hotel appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

What’s not to enjoy?

So why is it that male execs in Paris on business often leave on a Friday afternoon or arrive on a Monday morning rather than stay the weekend? Ask them and they’ll respond with a lie: no time, company won’t pay for the extra night, got to be home for my kid’s soccer game.

Women will stay the extra day to go shop for shoes, to hell with the soccer game.

Truth is, guys don’t like to stay the weekend alone because they know that if they have too much free time in a plush hotel they will either be incredibly lonely or will get themselves in trouble, or both. Because for all their comfort and service and accessories, a night in a fine hotel can seem like a waste when a guy’s not getting laid, pardon my French.

Dominique Strauss-Kahn, was arrested, on a Saturday. Duh!

Given the risks of self-flagellating loneliness, last-night-in-town desperation and the belief (his own and others’) that a sojourn in a plush hotel makes a man more attractive, it’s only natural to stumble upon a hot hotel employee fantasy when traveling alone.

(No one has receptionist fantasies in such hotels; receptionists are bill-pay people, not fantasy material, unlikely to be tipped or winked at or groped.)

Those of us who review luxury hotels know how important it is to test 2 a.m. room service by saying that your mini-bar doesn’t have the right kind of Champagne or that the TV doesn’t seem to be working, and then to open the door in a loosely tied bathrobe. Or is it just me?

Kidding!

Employees in luxury hotels are trained to be obligingly discrete and to let you know with an eloquent nod and a slight smile that you’ve come to the right place and that you belong there by virtue of your inner beauty. Hotel employees in return have their own rich client fantasies

A solitary traveler is therefore prone to believe that they like him, they really like him, and that each employee’s smile-and-nod is a secret message letting him know that he’s been recognized him for his true worth and that he can ask that employee for most personal and discreet attention.

They all start to look like geisha girls and call boys after a while.

It’s not always easy for a guy to distinguish between the lap of luxury and the lap-dance of luxury. But most of us manage.

© 2011, Gary Lee Kraut

Theatrical endnote: The DSK-inspired debate about macho Frenchmen or men of power often ignores the fact that high luxury hotels can be fertile ground for high-end prostitution.

I’ve little interest in the debate itself, to tell the truth, but imagining scenarious in the DSK-case has inspired me to outline a French farce of that kind that has a long run in Paris theaters:

A man alone in a luxury suite calls his familiar prostitution agency and asks for them to satisfy his fantasy of sex with a black chambermaid. (French farces tend not to be concerned about an appearance of racism so “black” would be an essential part of his request.) The agency says that they have just the girl for him, she’ll be over in 30 minutes, and they’ll have no problem getting her up to his room. Then, while the man is waiting (note to director: it’s funnier if he’s in his bathrobe) and the hired girl is still in a taxi putting on her chambermaid costume, a real black chambermaid with her own quirks and secrets enters the room. The man assumes that she’s the hired prostitute, playing her role by pretending to be shocked by his advances, and…

The post Sex and the Luxury Hotel appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

I stopped into a gas station just over the North Carolina border in Fayetteville, the first American town named after the Marquis de Lafayette, and couldn’t take a oui without reading on a comdom distributor that “abstinence before marriage and a monogamous relationship during marriage” served as better protection than a tube of latex, nevertheless “available here for your privacy and convenience.”

In France, you’re actually more likely to get laid, not to mention elected, by practicing abstinence from God and a monogamous relationship with the local wine.

Nevertheless, south of D.C. and before you hit Florida you travel through states with identities comparable to certain regional identities in France—Burgundy or Champagne or Brittany, for example—meaning that whatever pleasures and opportunities they may provide for the visitor you’d feel quite the outsider if tried to settle down there.

I wasn’t looking to settle down though but simply to spend two days in and around Cary, North Carolina, visiting an old friend from high school and enlisting him on a tour of French bakeries or restaurants in the Raleigh-Cary-Durham area.

We had a lot of catching up to do, which I won’t bore you with here, so I’ll cut to the chase.

First we went to the old North Carolina Statehouse in Raleigh, where sculptures on the outside mourn for the Confederacy (below left) and a sculpture of George Washington on the inside (below right) serves as a cautionary tale for those who would have their democratically elected leaders sculpted by Italians.

We went hunting for French pastries and found what I have come to consider the best croissant between Newark, NJ, and Naples, FL.

It was in the town of Cary, between Raleigh and Durham, at La Farm Bakery, a busy brick, wood, and tile bakery-café with an open kitchen where even on a busy morning the service was friendly as all get-out. If it takes a bit if fear of God to get good service then maybe the French should start going to church more often.

The croissant was deliciously fresh and buttery, and it had a close rival in the flaky pain au chocolat. The breads looked look picture-perfect.

Of course one can’t judge bread simply by its appearance so I asked the woman in line behind me which one’s she’d tried and if they were good. Turns out she was Sandra A. Gutierrez, a local food writer, and she had tried them all. Her knowledgeable enthusiasm for La Farm’s bread convinced me that this picture was worth a thousand bites.

Too good to be homegrown (no offense to residents of the Raleigh-Cary-Durham area), there had to be some serious baking education behind La Farm Bakery. Indeed there is; I learned from the bakery’s website, that the man behind the quality (and success) of the place is Lionel Vatinet.

His know-how doesn’t come from the Frenchness of his name, though I suspect that helps, but from the fact that he learned and developed his skills by touring for seven years with the guild of craftsmen and artisans called Les Compagnons du Devoir, at the end of which he earn the prestigious title Master Baker.

An outsider might never feel at home in North Carolina, but he’ll always have find comfort at La Farm.

La Farm Bakery, 4248 Cary Parkway, Cary, NC. 919-657-0657.

The post A Francophile East Coast U.S. Road Trip (3): Croissants in Carolina appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

I quickly found six eager women—women of class and beauty and culture and career success.

As for the men… what men? Those I told about the tour said they’d already been to Paris with their first wives.

Turns out a man needs to be in love in order to think of the French capital as a romantic or sexy destination whereas a woman need only hear the word “Paris.”

Another word that’s sure to get a woman packing is “naughty.” It’s a term that conveys stolen moments of all that is playful, sexy, sexual, risqué but not crude, and either pricey or furtively free.

A man uses the word “naughty” when telling a 6-year-old girl not to hit her younger brother. But for a woman “naughty” also calls to mind a knowing smile, a short skirt, some optimistic lingerie, a come-hither pair of high heels, a chocolate éclair in the afternoon, sex-toy shopping, an extra glass of champagne, a pole dancing class, a devil-may-care flirt, a knowing tease, curiosity about libertine clubs, and much else if only someone in the know would only tell her the address.

Put “naughty” and “Paris” together and you get Naughty Paris: A Lady’s Guide to the Sexy City, Heather Stimmler-Hall’s glossy, snappy, highly informed “menu of the many sensual delights Paris has to offer to discerning ladies.”

Heather Stimmler-Hall sets out to “awaken your inner femme fatale.” But first the reader is invited to gaze upon and to admire the ageless Parisienne, that fantasy Frenchwoman of mystery, confidence, and femininity, a lady bearing weapons of mass seduction, one who’s not necessarily beautiful but, with the throw of a scarf, knows how to use what she’s got.

“One of the most captivating qualities of Parisian women is their self confidence,” writes Ms. Stimmler-Hall.

This may well be true, yet it’s worth noting that Frenchwomen think the same thing of their American idols. As my Parisian friend L. explains, she and her seemingly confident friends actually dream of adding some femme fatale à l’Américaine to their repertoire so as to channel their inner Carrie or Bree. While the American woman arrives in Paris afraid to be seen as a season or two behind the fashion curve, the Frenchwoman lands in New York aware that she’s a season or two behind the story arch of her favorite TV shows. Yet it appears that women on both sides of the Atlantic pack their Desperate Sex and the City fantasies when traveling abroad.

But what are the men in Paris packing? Though Ms. Stimmler-Hall has no pretensions of providing in-depth analysis of her readers’ potential Parisian suitors’ arms of seduction she does note some essential cross-cultural fusion material that will allow them to flirt wisely. Among her pearls:

“In America, ‘No means No.’ In France, no means ‘I’m not convinced.’”

“Don’t assume your suitor is single. He won’t assume you are – or care either way.”

“With the inherent language barriers and the French male tendency to act first and apologize later, you may find yourself at the receiving end of an unauthorized rear entry.”

That last observation clearly goes well beyond flirting—and so does Naughty Paris.

No, Naughty Paris is not a sex guide. Ms. Stimmler-Hall even makes a point in the introduction of declaring, “This is not a manual for getting lucky.” Nevertheless, she does her best to get her readers primped and prepped enough to attract good fortune. And with the final chapter’s thorough advice and choice addresses regarding fetish parties and libertine soirées, she is fully prepared to show readers how to force destiny.

Having gotten readers into the mind-set that Paris is their temporary playground, the author proceeds to advise them on the various activities of pampering and seduction that may be enjoyed out in the field, from hotel to spa, from lingerie to shoes, dinner to nightclub, from make-up to make out.

I was hoping for some curious sightseeing along the way, but despite the presence of the Eiffel Tower on the cover poking above the title as phallus dei, sightseeing in Naughty Paris is limited to mention of some naked masterpieces and of Frenchmen offering naughty art tours.

Nevertheless, the enticing mix of advice, “naughty tips,” snappy commentary and addresses for boutiques, spas, unmarked doors, romantic venues, dance clubs, and sex clubs, with a few notable films and works of art thrown in for good measure, make this the Cosmo of cosmopolitan guidebooks and a seductive addition to an otherwise stagnant genre.

Most guidebooks settle for regurgitated information with a bit of attitude du jour and some save-or-spend advice. They are largely the work of publishers and editors, not writers or travel journalists. But Heather Stimmler-Hall’s wit, observations, and thorough research shine through here. Naughty Paris is indeed the work of a travel journalist.

After fielding many “discreet inquiries” during those tours, she says, she realized there was a gap in the guidebook market and so set about to write Naughty Paris.

Beyond its introductory insights, the essence of Naughty Paris is its choice addresses and perceptive commentary. Chapters progress with increasing naughtiness: a selection of hotels, spas, and cosmetic and clothing boutiques… snippets of sexy culture… mid- and high-style sex toy shops… pole dancing classes… bars and dance clubs… libertine/swingers clubs and fetish venues. You go girl!

Whether advising readers about high heels or low whispers, the author’s tone is always playful, polished, and informed—and sometimes cautionary.

Throughout, Ms. Stimmler-Hall lets you know that this naughtiness is all just a game, that romance, seduction, and pleasure are all about being confident enough to be yourself (well, maybe not too much yourself), that having the right attitude goes far, that having the right addresses goes further, that having the right bank account can help, and that the best thing about being abroad is not being judged by anyone at home, even yourself.

The lure of the text sometimes drowns in the gloss of the images. While there is indeed much gloss to Ms. Stimmler-Hall’s writing, it’s the gloss of a journalist with a good eye, a wide smile, and a clear marketing niche. Unfortunately, the photographer failed to grasp that there’s a difference between a marketing niche and advertising copy.

The ad-like quality of Kirsten Loop’s photography does a disservice to Naughty Paris by making the author’s discretion, insights, and wink-wink commentary appear on the page as little more than an ad for spas, beauty products, and sex toys. The result is that the book looks too like a catalogue, with the same sexy, full-lipped model presenting all the wares.

Discerning ladies accustomed to high-gloss magazines will likely be more forgiving of the book’s cosmetics than this male reviewer, as they will of the books sticker price of 25€ or $39 (possibly less from online booksellers).

For such discerning ladies, Naughty Paris is your little black book to go with your little black skirt, your little black purse, and your universal weapons of mass seduction.

For men who would like to meet such ladies, you ought to consider joining on my singles tour.

© 2008, Gary Lee Kraut

Also read France Revisited’s interview with Heather Stimmler-Hall.

Naughty Paris: A Lady’s Guide to the Sexy City by Heather Stimmler-Hall. Photos by Look Photography. Published in France by Fleur-de-Lire Press, September 2008. 296 pages. Retail price: 25€/$39. Available in or orderable through bookstores in the U.S. as well as from major online booksellers. Available in the UK through Amazon.co.uk and from www.naughtyparisguide.com.

Disclaimer: Heather Stimmler-Hall and I have raised a few toasts to her Naughty Paris project over the past two years, which has somehow earned me thanks on the book’s Merci! page.

The post Uncovering French Weapons of Mass Seduction appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.

Born near Philadelphia, PA, and gone to high shool in Scottsdale, AZ, she came to Paris for her junior year from Carleton College in Northfield, Minnesota, in 1995. After returning to Carleton to complete her B.A. degree as a political science major, Ms. Stimmler-Hall came back to Paris, worked in bars and a muffin shop for two years, and began sharpening her skills as travel journalist.

In the past decade she has worked as travel editor of elle.com, contributed to the Michelin Green, Fodor’s, and Time Out Guides, and written for France Magazine, Elle, and other magazines. In addition to her freelance work she operates the web site www.SecretsofParis.com.

France Revisited caught up with Heather Stimmler-Hall on the occasion of the release of her new guidebook Naughty Paris: A Lady’s Guide to the Sexy City. Click here for the review of the book.

You and Paris

Gary Lee Kraut: What were you doing in the U.S. before you came to France?

Heather Stimmler-Hall: I was a student last time I lived in the US.

GLK: What would you be doing if you’d stayed in the U.S.?

HSH: Either White House journalist or environmental lawyer.

GLK: What was your first job as a journalist?

HSH: I was the Teen Correspondent for the Phoenix Gazette (now called the Arizona Republic) in 1992. They sent me to a journalists’ conference on “reporting on AIDS/HIV” and I got a t-shirt that said “If you can’t talk about sex, you can’t talk about AIDS.” So I guess you could say I got an early start in my career on the topic of sexuality.

You and Naughty Paris

GLK: What inspired you to write this book?

HSH: I had a lot of tour clients and readers of my Secrets of Paris newsletter ask me for this type of information, and I thought since there was a gap in the guidebook market, why not fill it?

GLK: You give such great insights into naughty pleasures in Paris. Would you consider yourself a naughty lady?

HSH: When it comes to chocolate and self-pampering, I’m definitely naughty. Good thing I have a fast metabolism! But as for the naughty nightlife, I’m actually a bit old fashioned. I prefer dinner and a movie to fetish parties and sex clubs.

GLK: Were you already in touch with your inner femme fatale before coming to Paris or did you find her in the City of Light?

HSH: I was 20 when I came to Paris, and it took about a decade to even figure out what afemme fatale really was.

GLK: Is it more fun to date a Frenchman or an American? What are the advantages of one and the other?

HSH: Naughty Paris is basically for tourists, not for establishing long-term relationships. I think the French are more fun for a vacation fling. I’m going to plead the fifth on the rest of that question.

GLK: Do you find yourself acting differently or make yourself act differently when flirting in French and flirting in English?

HSH: I sound a lot more intelligent in English. That’s not saying a lot about my French language skills!

GLK: How has understanding the French sense of seduction affected your own approach to sex, dating, romance and/or fun in Paris?

HSH: I’m still trying to figure that one out.

Pampering

GLK: Why is Paris such a great city for a woman to pamper herself?

HSH: Because the French aren’t so hung up about the whole pampering thing. Americans may indulge in day spas and manicures, but there’s something so “efficient” about it all. The French ladies pamper themselves in little ways all of the time, without guilt, shame, or having to “work for it” to deserve it. They feel it’s their birthright.

GLK: Let’s say an open-minded American woman, over 35, with decent finances, wants to come to Paris for a long weekend. Is she going to enjoy herself more with her girlfriends or with her guy?

HSH: I would say that depends on who your friends are and who the guy is. It’s always more fun with fun, open-minded, daring people. And if your man or your friends don’t fit this description, find new ones.

Seduction

GLK: How are Parisian women different from other French women?

HSH: A lot more refined in terms of fashion and culture, but also a lot more snobby and overly concerned about what other people think—without making it seem like she cares, of course. Parisians in general are mortified at the idea of looking silly, so they tend to not let their hair down as easily as French women from out of town.

GLK: How are Parisian men different from other Frenchmen?

HSH: Ditto. I should add that this is similar in most big cities like N.Y. and London.

GLK: Do American charms, whatever they may be, truly have no place in Paris? Aren’t Frenchmen attracted to American women for their mere foreignness?

HSH: There’s that exotic allure that American women have, sure. The best thing is to mix the best of both worlds.

Sex

GLK: Are Frenchmen, and particularly Parisian men, truly good lovers? Why?

HSH: I think I covered that in the chapter “On French Men.” It’s really subjective, though. If it was that easy to calculate, we’d have a scoring system!

GLK: Can the Parisian man’s attempts at seduction work in the U.S. or will it only work with Francophiles?

HSH: I don’t think there’s a formula, but if a man is really successful with women, borders shouldn’t be an issue.

GLK: Regarding the sections in your book devoted to Libertine (Swinger) clubs and Fetish outings, is Paris particularly well-endowed in such clubs compared with other cities?

HSH: I’m not sure if Paris has more swingers’ clubs than other cities or if they’re just less hidden. I haven’t been researching the scene in other cities.

GLK: What does an American guy need to do to get laid in Paris?

HSH: No idea. I didn’t write a book for men because I wouldn’t be able to do the research. Perhaps there’s another market gap for you, Gary!

European Naughtiness

GLK: What are the top three naughty destinations in Europe and what differentiates them?

HSH: Berlin, London, and Amsterdam will be the next three cities after Naughty Paris, but I won’t know until after the research is done how to answer the second half of that question. As I like to remind people, I researched and wrote Naughty Paris because I thought it was a guidebook topic that hadn’t been done yet, not because I was already familiar with that lifestyle. I’m looking for local female writers in other cities to do the next guides. It may turn out after the research that I’ll find that no other city caters to women’s fantasies the way Paris does! I try not to have any preconceived ideas about what’s out there. My high school journalism teacher would be proud!

The post An Interview with Heather Stimmler-Hall appeared first on France Revisited - Life in Paris, Travel in France.