French Women Don't Sleep Alone

Sometimes a book can just strike you at the right moment. That's the way it was for me when I picked up a copy of Jamie Cat Callan's "French Women Don't Sleep Alone." I started reading and finished within two hours. I smiled all the way through.Unlike some of the other Francophile lifestyle books like " French Women Don't Get Fat " and " Entre Nous: A Woman's Guide to Finding Her Inner French Girl ," "French Women Don't Sleep Alone" may masquerade as pure fun, but the tips accrued by Callan in her efforts to understand the mystique of her French grandmother can be utilized by American women who have spent too much time becoming empowered rivals to their male counterparts rather than real flesh and blood women and mean more to its reader than learning how to tie a scarf, wear a pencil skirt and heels, eat small bites and leave food on your plate.Callan is so right when she simply restates what is as plain as the nez on your visage: Men and women are different. Well, duh . . . Well, serious duh! We are different, however, for the last forty years we have been trying to be the same. We burnt our bras - (I didn't--I need mine) and let down our guards by `being honest' and `telling it like it is' (yes, I have been guilty of this.) But to what avail? Has it done us any good? Are we more enlightened or do we just become extremely cynical, eat more ice cream and kvetsh about the ten pounds we have gained? We complain about our men and try to change them--make them into sensitive women! Yes, we do. We want to be included in and consulted on everything they do, but then we scream when we discover that we have trained them to do absolutely nothing. We've made it too easy.Callan concentrates her study on the French woman, but I think her comments encompass most Europeans. American women want their men to understand them while European women relish the fact that they don't. The worlds of men and women are different. Why not enjoy ours and let them enjoy theirs? What are we afraid that we will miss? Nothing that we actually want.Wisely, Callan comments on the overt sexuality and celebrity worshiping generations of younger women that show it all while wishing they were someone else. European women know how to dress--classic pieces paired with something eclectic--a show of leg, maybe some cleavage, but never both at once. Elegant yet fun. Jeans that fit right, not the ones that some superstar wore.So what's the secret that French women know that has eluded us on the other side of the pond? Once we find our mates we expect to be joined at the hip. We give up all our mystery; recount little things that bore us let alone our men. Instead of developing that woman that our man fell in love with in the first place, we become complacent and lazy, expecting to be entertained rather than independently continuing to grow while on our own paths. We expect one path to encompass two people and that really doesn't make any sense at all.If my comments have intrigued you, Callan's free and easy prose will delight you. Her insights make her an honorary candidate for the next Marianne. She will teach you not to date, that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, the power of keeping your life in tact through the coterie (your circle of friends) and most importantly, the escape to a secret garden.Bottom line? Jamie Cat Callan's how-to on finding love, "French Women Don't Sleep Alone," is sure to please even the most disgruntled feminist. Fast, fun and insightful it comes highly recommended by this reviewer who spent a few hours in her own Jardin Secret while reading it. Oui, Oui!Diana Faillace Von Behren"reneofc"

I apologize. I don't want to be harsh. I'd be unfair though if I said anything other than: This book is ridiculous.I had optimism going in, I am an American woman frustrated with our "dating" culture. I find it exhausting getting all put together for a relative stranger - and costly with new clothes, the perfect shoes. And mostly disappointing - there seem to be lots of toads masqaurading as men.Okay. So, French women not only don't sleep alone, paradoxically they don't date either. Quelle surprise!! And what, you may ask DO they do...?They throw dinner parties. Every Friday night.They invite there "circle". Or they include - to spice things up - their cousin's, cousin's nephew. (?!?!) Or the perfect hostess throws in a new person she met at the bookstore. (Apparently those still exist in France.) And that man is known by the postman, the butcher and the manicurist she goes to - who happens to be that "new" man's uncle's, nephew's girlfriend.In other words - the French - socialize with people they have known all their lives. This is highly recommended. Because, after all, then the man is "known". And, bien sûr, a dinner party takes the pressure off. Frees a woman from obligation to - as conversely in awkward American style dating - an "unknown" man who is buying her dinner in a one on one situation.Honestly I like this idea.But, guess what? Those lucky-duck French women live in the province and town or village they were born in, as were all their pals - and all their family members since the beginning of time. - Which is why they have grandmère's Channel bag*. (wink- wink. See below).Us American girls moved from Wisconsin to Los Angeles for college, then got a job in San Francisco or Washington DC. Our brother lives in Oregon. Our sister lives in Austin, Texas, and we think we have a cousin somewhere in Miami.A dinner party? For whom? Our cat and that guy from the mail room and maybe the receptionist since she knows everything about us anyway? - Kinda like knowing us since childhood.You know what else is nifty about French women?They never wear anything but matching silky underware, they always have a fresh and shining mani-pedi. They are always delicately perfumed and casually yet alluringly coiffed. This way they are always prepared for an impromptu tête à tête, which, so we are told is a regular occurrance and rather the point of the dinner parties. A man is soley for secret rendezvous until they find the "right" one. Then they go public.To entice men - though really, naturèlment, it's only to please themselves - French women dress impecibly. They mix and never match the precisely slouchy jacket from a thrift shop with an "old thing" that used to belong to their grandmère* - such as a Channel bag or Hermès scarf. (Which they themselves laid out a few thousand Euros for, but saying so would be gauche.)Earlyish - about 10:30am - they have Manolo Blaniks and Tods ballet flats to slip into along with their Ray Bans or Channel (encore) sunglasses to zip out to puchase a paper and baguette. Pursing their aux natural rosy lips as they chose the best one of each.But - only after the ritual that all French women take the time for: an extra half hour in the morning for a scented bath. We are instructed to do so as well. And like the French women to apply Tunisian body oil excreated from a three month old baby newt. It makes for soft, dewy and supple skin without oily residue and most of all: without seeming to have tried at all.THAT is the French way. It is quntissentially French to seem as if no effort went into your ease and perfection in appearance and dress and grooming.Ha. Clearly - from this book - it's all every French woman thinks about and what they spend all their time and money on.It seems French women while never sleeping alone also don't ever have to get up to go to work. Or have children. Or pay bills. Or have traffic to drive through. Or indulge a craving for Cheetos and Ben & Jerry's. (Goodness no! French women only nibble, slowly on tiny, tiny bites of food like lettuce, fish and Friday night champagne and chocolate desserts!)And what's extra special: the men too spend this same care in grooming and dressing and eating so they too are prête pour la tête à tête at a moments notice. Can you say "metro-sexual"?This book is absurd.We are accused as Americans of approaching finding a man like finding a job. We're apparently scruffy and under groomed. Definately over blinged according to French sensibilities.Hmm.This book is also poorly edited. It gives the same recommendations more than two or four times - for example a certain chocolate dessert is the only one apparently suited for this weekly Friday night dinner party and lest we not take note the first time we are told 3 or 4.French women do whatever it is they do because they are French, in France.We, mes amis Americaines, are stuck with Match.com because we are American women living in the US.French woman may never sleep alone, but American women and culture will never be French.

This book was very disappointing! I learnt more about the lifestyle and fashion (or lack thereof) of American women than about French.women and were I an American I would find the book very patronising. Passing on details of American friends' recipes and styles is hardly giving useful information on the life and ways of the French. And I still haven't worked out the title: perhaps it belongs to another book?

this book was given to me by a friend in USA... i bought it for a friend in the UK and she has now shared it with 4 other girl friends.....

I thought it was going to be light and funny, but I must admit I feel a little worried that the author took it so seriously. If you're looking for a good laugh regarding sexual politics Mrs Beeton wins hands down every time.

Uplifting when I want a little feminine French reading.

I read this book in two days! It's a light read full of tips and a positive message. This would be a really fun book to bring to the beach as it's really well written,has awesome recipes, stories and its super feminine.