A highgloss take on expat life in ‘ Paris’
The text messages began to arrive in early October. One, then two, then a deluge.
“Emily in Paris,” a new series from “Sex and the City” creator Darren Star, had premiered on Netflix. As a former American in Paris myself, friends from both sides of the Atlantic jokingly ordered me to binge the first season and report back. Their playful questioning was always the same: Was my former life abroad anything like what the show depicts?
Like protagonist Emily Cooper ( Lily Collins), I was once a starryeyed 20something who left the Midwest to go gallivanting around the City of Lights. I lived there for 10 years, long enough to learn the city and its customs — and to find out that “Lights” refers to the luminary intellectuals who’ve called Paris home, as opposed to the flashing bulbs wrapped around the Eiffel Tower.
My experience living in Europe started with the same naivete as my onscreen counterpart. The fact that I, unlike Emily, spoke French fluently upon arrival didn’t curtail how painfully innocent I was, moving from a small Missouri town.
With suitcases overflowing and a head full of romantic aspirations, I was ready to live my best Parisian life, and
“Emily in Paris” is available to stream on Netflix.
looked forward to parading down the city streets in hotpink stilettos and more than one poorly chosen hat.
When Emily does this in an early episode, she is greeted by Frenchmen eager to sweep her off her feet. That may have happened to me once or twice, but I found her coworkers’ cold comments about her clothes to be much more authentic.
“No one dresses like that,” Parisians were quick to state online, pointing out that their allblack wardrobes are normally quite conservative. Their complaints remind me of a French bartender who once told me to save my opentoed sandals for the beach, or the boss who reprimanded another American friend for her pants being a shade of blue too bright.
I remember getting unsolicited grammar lessons while buying breakfast at the cafe. I remember being told to slow down with the hors d’oeuvres at a cocktail party, and to sip and savor my Champagne.
That eagerness to correct inappropriate expat behavior is actually one of the more accurate elements of “Emily in Paris.” So is, in some ways, her use of social media for professional efforts.
But the most fiery debates surrounding the series revolve around the depiction of the famous city itself. Does “Emily in Paris” get Paris right? Quite obviously non. But also, well, oui.
The show relies heavily on exploiting French stereotypes. But nearly every cliche, no matter how eyeroll inducing, is rooted somewhere in reality.
I’ve been told that Sancerre is appropriate to drink before noon (“breakfast wine” is now a part of our lexicon and one of the show’s best punch lines). I’ve met people who go to their family’s castle for the weekend. And yes, I’ve been to a Champagnefueled party overlooking the Seine.
These experiences were often oneoffs spread out over a decade, not packed into every moment of every day. And they were overshadowed by normal life, which we don’t see on the show.
The daily grind, referred to by Parisians as métro, boulot, dodo ( metro, work, sleep), is strikingly absent. So is almost any form of the city’s cultural or socioeconomic diversity, not to mention any reasonable pushback against Emily’s pickandchoose feminism from her native coworkers.
After a decade in France, I moved to the Bay Area, lured by a new career. I found work creating online followings for members of San Francisco’s hospitality industry ( that’s right, Emily and I have had similar jobs, too). And I learned that the most marketable Instagram accounts should be filled with enviable content — much more difficult for fulltime influencers like Emily, who rely on generic or grossly exaggerated content to generate views.
Paris as the backdrop of Emily’s falsely glamorous online persona, an echo of the lifestyle perpetuated by the show, is no accident. Its glamorization is often directed at young women, along with the belief that a life of beauty, fame and romance awaits them in the City of Love.
I should know; I fell for it.
But what kept me there — and why I can’t wait until I can safely return for a visit — is the quieter version of the city. Fans of “Emily in Paris” may be counting the days until they can dress up and drink breakfast wine abroad. But for me, I yearn to once again experience a little more of the quiet cafes, the cozy interiors and the shuffle of everyday life that I came to love.