C’est si bon – French books

French women don’t get facelifts or get fat.
Their children don’t talk back, throw their food, and eat everything.
French parents don’t give in

We yearn for their food and their markets, and spend a year in a villa admiring their sense of interior design.

The guilty pleasure of buttery french pastry is now replaced with the Parisian diet, and A Skinny french kitchen.

We assume that French women know all about love, sex and other matters of heart, but also don’t mind sleeping alone!

Even the French cat and dog outclass the common kiwi moggie or hound.

It would seem that by putting French in the title you have an instant bestseller.  Substitute Kiwi, British or American and it not only doesn’t sound as good – probably no one would believe you either!

Cover of The French dog Cover of What French women knowCover of French parents don't give inCover of Why French children don't talk back


5 thoughts on “C’est si bon – French books

  1. Shawn L. Bird 9 July 2014 / 9:08 am

    Having been to France a time or two, I have my doubts about the veracity of any of these claims, though they certainly dress better than the average North Americans.

    I am remembering the pungent ammoniac reek of the Avignon bus station, which demonstrates folks can be disgusting anywhere. 😉

    • keenanj 9 July 2014 / 11:11 am

      It seems to be a trend at the moment – if it’s French then it must be good!

  2. Robyn 9 July 2014 / 9:12 am

    I am waiting for the “French women (and men for that matter) tie their scarves beautifully and you can too” book. I think such a book may be given to them at birth and put aside until they are old enough to have the manual dexterity necessary to arrange the scarves they all wear. Seemingly artless but unavailable to anyone not born in France. Or possibly just Paris.

    • keenanj 9 July 2014 / 11:12 am

      I think there is a gap in the market, something for you to think about Robyn?

  3. Rebecca 9 July 2014 / 10:09 am

    Dan Rhodes’s ‘This is life’ is set in Paris and has a very funny sub-plot about highly covetable, beautiful scarves.

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