I’ve often been told that French people stink, especially women. It was my grandmother who told me this, often. I’m not sure why it bore repeating as we didn’t know any French people. My mother told me to take no heed of her mother, yet this was the start of my fascination with all things French, odorous, and female. My mother never put two and two together when I elected to take French in high school, became obsessed with Betty Blue, and took a fancy to brie. But my grandmother… oh, mon dieu, nothing got past her.
BY Jeannette Cook
"I've often been told that the French stink, especially women", I overheard a rather insignificant man say to an unimpressive and uninterested young woman, as I jogged by.
She certainly wasn't French: her lips weren't red, she had no style, no attitude, no je-ne-sais-quoi.
As I ran, I thought of my grandmother. She was as French as they come, but she never smelled bad. No B.O. masked by perfume, no musty sweat, dirty socks, overused underwear.
Not my grandmother, nor any French person I knew.
As I ran and started sweating, that ¼ of myself became an obsession.