Style that never gets lost in translation

You can't talk about France without talking about style. People always want to come to France and see what is à la mode (in style) by shopping at major fashion houses on the Champs-Élysées. Ask me if the French are more fashionable and I will tell you this: people are people. Much like in the US, you find people who can dress to impress and people who fall short of spectacular – that isn't to say there aren't serious differences.

Major Fashion Differences (according to Cyd):

• They aren't as big into sportswear as we are back home. I have yet to see someone wearing sweatpants or sweatshirts outside who isn't in route to or from the gym.
• Women wear heels like it's nobody's business. Work!
• Hairstyles seem to be pretty different. Dark hair is very popular and I see a lot of women with dyed black tresses (which frankly doesn't go well with most skin tones).

In contrast, French people haven't quite figured out my hair yet...and understandingly so. Most of the black women I've seen in France have weaves or wigs going on (and if I'm going to be super honest, terrible ones at that...if I see your tracks—which I often do – your weave is not doing it's job). However confused the people here may be in regards to my hair, they still seem fascinated by the most wretched of styles that I end up unintentionally sporting. I'll press my hair and sculpt it into a fashionable coif, and by midday after the humidity bomb has hit, my hair is left as an explosion of untamed curls and bobby pin shrapnel.

Exibit A

Exibit B

But they seem to love it. One of my retirement home neighbors ran her hands through my braids. "How did you do this? It's just so pretty!" Others inquire, confused, “Did you do something different to your hair?” The more curious, “Ooo, can I touch?” “You look very pretty today Miss Black,” one little girl says (in French of course). I don't even feel embarrassed anymore like I would back home.

Back home the exchange would be much different. “DAAAAAANNNG CYD! You look like you got bushwhacked!” I can imagine my older brother teasing (For my foreign readers, that means that it looks like I literally got whacked...by a bush.). Or, “It's not THAT bad, “ my mom would assure me, and then in a swift change of approach, “Stop caring so much about your hair...It's what's inside that matters.” Not very assuring, Mom. Nice try.

This is making me miss home.

My point is that in France my style (or lack there of) translates in it's own little way. Sometimes what wouldn't work at home works really well here. And vice versa. For instance yesterday I wore this rustic yellow turtleneck which I tucked into belted blue jeans paired with suede ankle boots. I was looking good! My colleagues here had nothing but compliments. “It's very 1960s!” two colleagues said, “I really like turtlenecks,” another shared, and “I would really like to see how you do your hair every day” (my hair was slicked back into a ponytail with a blue headband and the day before I wore an afro).” In contrast, my friends back home couldn't get enough of the fact that I was wearing a turtleneck. Tosha specifically keeps pointing out that she can't shake the image of the 1990s fad fail (I'm telling you, Tosh, they're making a comeback!)

Me in the turtleneck

Me, with friends, in the turtle neck (see, people like)

Anyway, I can gladly say that generally speaking the French dress just as well as we do back home (excluding the people that wear pajamas to go to Culvers...smh). I'm even happier to find that however I dress, it works for me, whether it doesn't work in the US or in France. At the end of the day, I've been able to rock the looks of my own choice on both sides of the ocean and feel good about it. And lucky for me, confidence hardly ever gets lost in translation.