In the French Style proved to be one of Seberg's most satisfying film experiences even though she was feeling the pressure of carrying most of the film as she was in. Special thanks to NEXT Models. Caroline de Maigret kicks off our new series of Inside the Wardrobe: The French Edition with Bay Garnett. In the French Style is a 1962 French-American romance film released by Columbia Pictures directed by Robert Parrish and stars Jean Seberg, Stanley Baker and Philippe. Stealing French Style. Tom Ford. Advertisement - Continue Reading Below. Paris. I would live life as a local. I would go to the markets for fresh cheese, sip cafes au lait in the Marais, Rollerblade around the Rue de Rivoli on Thursday nights. Within a few days I would be unmistakably French. But what would I wear? Would my style translate? Robert Parrish's 'In the French Style' features excellent black-and-white location photography, by Michel Kelber. The performances are wonderful. Uncover detailed information about In the French Style (1963). Explore interactive visualizations about the cast, ratings, recommendations, photos, plot, and more. Buy Roger Verge's New Entertaining in the French Style on Amazon.com FREE SHIPPING on qualified orders. Would I ever look as cool as Jane Birkin? Oh, wait - - she's English. But she does have an Hermes bag named after her. Habitat 10 - In the french style . Habitat 10 - In the french style. Not content to just paint walls, this. Read user reviews of In the French Style, 1963, directed by Robert Parrish, with Jean Seberg, Stanley Baker, Philippe Forquet, here at TCM. The Overture in the French style, BWV 831, original title Ouvert What is French style anyway? I thought I was going to see berets, striped tees, sleek capri pants, ballet slippers, and scarves tied more ways than a first date's tongue. Instead, I saw prairie skirts, tank tops, flip- flops, tousled ponytails, and bronze skin. And this was on the French women. Where was I - - Paris or Malibu? Didn't I just see Cameron Diaz wearing that exact prairie skirt in Us Weekly, or was that Hello!? I had to investigate further. In an attempt to assimilate I spent the first few weeks putting my hair in a French twist - - and having it fall down the second I walked away from the mirror. I also practiced keeping my mouth in that perpetual . It's an all- around useful mouth position.)As I discovered, French women can look so chic wearing the least amount of stuff. Even when they're dressed, they look stripped. So I removed my bracelets, necklaces, dangling earrings, studded belt, and oversize purse. But I didn't feel chic; I felt naked - - which is what most French women are in Saint- Tropez, and which I will never be in public. But what better way to aid in my quest for chic than going to the haute- couture shows? Then, perhaps, I could . One problem, though: The shows were happening in the midst of a horrible heat wave. All decisions about style went out the fenetre with the heat. Being cool physically trumped being cool clothing- wise. Advertisement - Continue Reading Below. So off to Dior I went. I wore a vintage (code for a few seasons old) Prada sleeveless shift to keep cool. As if anyone was checking me out. I was surrounded by Oscar- winning actresses and rock stars who looked perfect. I watched two massive black horses harnessed to a sinister black carriage carry Erin O'Connor around a tent in the Bois du Boulogne. I kept imagining that they would somehow untether themselves and come straight for me, indiscriminately trampling models and celebrities on their way to freedom and fresh air. The headline would read, . I thought, Maybe it's more heels that I need in my life as a pseudo- franc. There was no fan in his hand, people!) All I could think about was taking a shower. And should I be in those knee- high black leather boots from the fall collection? Would that work in car pool? At Armani Prive, guests were offered coffee. Even though I was dripping with sweat, I needed the caffeine. The pursuit of French style was exhausting. I was awakened, however, by Mr. Armani's glamorous collection, which conjured up images of women in piano bars, late nights, smoky rooms, and absinthe. Plus, the models wore velvet hats. That seemed French. God bless you, Mr. Valentino, for showing at night. It was slightly cooler in the p. I was able to wear an Alexander Mc. Queen LBS (little black suit). Charlize Theron had worn an LBS to Dior, and I was inspired to slavishly copy her. He dressed Jackie Kennedy. I felt I was getting closer to defining French style. Was it because of his bows? I felt jolie, oh- so jolie. Jean Paul Gaultier's show, though, had a Russian theme. Having recently devoured Anna Karenina, I wanted to wear one of his gowns while astride one of those big black Dior horses galloping freely through the Murmansk forest. Or at least go to Starbucks in one. I was struggling to figure out where I could wear the clothes, however. I could take home the idea of embroidery, perhaps. That seemed Gallic to me. An American friend was visiting, and she wanted to shop. A welcome diversion, it was like recess at the School of Looking French. They were having a sale. I do love a little bling on clothes myself, so those wonderful adornments of pearls, stones, ribbons, and gold are perfect for looking feminine without going over- the- top. My favorite piece is a black silk beaded belt that can also be worn as a choker. Speaking of choking, how do those French women eat all that cheese and chocolate and still stay thin? Oh, they exist, my friends. They just look thinner than everyone else. But when you see svelte Parisian women eating all that fat, don't you just want to take those chic little scarves around their necks and strangle them? And that reminds me: Accessories do sort of give you instant style, no? As long as I pulled out my trusty Balenciaga Lariat bag and Chloe sunglasses, that would help me in the French ways. But let's talk about the real addiction: Who can pass up Christian Louboutin's shoes? I defy you to find me a French woman who could say no to Christian fondling her feet. I asked him what he thought French style was. You can see the years of women wearing Louis heels in her attitude. The 1. 9th century is carried within her. French women strike poses. It's more about the pose than the clothes. I was in high heels, a velvet beret, my new spangly blouse, with a belt tied around my neck, standing in front of the mirror.. I was also not wearing pants. What happens in Paris stays in Paris.)After a long week of heat and haute, it was a relief to get back to my normal Parisian routine. I was so happy to be a . I still hadn't witnessed that mythical essence of French style, and I was cool with that. Finally, cool. But then, there she was, shopping for flowers. She had a perfectly lithe body, a pout worthy of Bardot, and she was wearing - - mais oui - - a pencil skirt and pumps. Try it for a day, then call me from the Bliss spa.) She may have been from Beirut for all I know, but at that moment she was the epitome of French chic. And I, with my prairie skirt and ponytail, was at the end of the day a hopeless American.
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