I had in mind to post a rant about French style last Friday, but my sister’s piano arrived and intervened. Not surprisingly, I no longer feel like sharing my silly annoyances with the French lifestyle industry. I didn’t feel like writing anything at all, to be honest, but then I started to think about my relationship with France and the French, beyond the questions of style. I’m not a particularly francophone person and had never truly realized how much I’ve been – and obviously still am – shaped by this culture. Below are some examples: some serious, some less so, but all important for me.

1. The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas. I always say that English and Russian literature work much better for me than French, but one of my most formative reading experiences is an exception to this rule. I read The Three Musketeers when I was very small and kept rereading it and its sequels for years, driving my mother to distraction. I love many other books by Dumas (and by French authors, for that matter), but this one remains my favourite: it has adventure, love, bromance, sacrifice, intrigues, duels, femme fatales, balls, diamonds, everything. It also ignited my love for history, including my early-teens obsession with the French Revolution.

2. Fracas by Robert Piguet. I could have picked any number of French perfumes, from Chanel’s extraordinary Cuir de Russie to Guerlain’s classic Apres l’Ondee or the modern classics of Serge Lutens. The reason I went with Fracas is that it was the first niche perfume I bought and one I wore every day, everywhere, for months – those who have smelled the heady tuberose of Fracas, know why this is quite an achievement. Fracas was the starting point of my deep interest in perfumes, many of them French. And it’s still one of the most extraordinary olfactive creations in existence.

3. The impressionists. Like many teenage girls, I went though an impressionism-adoration phase in high school. Then I turned against the impressionists completely (with a possible exception of Renoir), blaming them of being too pretty and twee. And then I finally saw the paintings in real life and fell in love again: you really have to see impressionist pieces in person, to appreciate how masterful and radical they are. I have other French favourites (I adore, for example, Georges Clairin’s portrait of Sarah Bernhardt), but I have the longest history with impressionists. Their story also demonstrates, how much beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

4. Martin Fourcade. For those who don’t follow developments in biathlon (you really should) – Martin is currently the best biathlon athlete in the world and has won the World Cup four times in a row. When he’s on top form, he is a marvel to watch: he can both ski and shoot better than anyone else. His technique is impeccable. He is scarily driven. I could easily have chosen many other incredible French athletes, maybe Thierry Henry or Marie Jose-Perec, but as I foresaw greatness for Martin before he made it big, I feel like I scouted him personally.

5. Reasonably priced skincare. What IKEA is to furniture, French pharmacy brands are to skincare. I use them less these days, but I’m totally on board with the thinking that good quality products should be accessible to anyone and I do think the French were ahead of others in this game. My own favourites are Caudalie and La Roche-Posey, but there are many good brands to choose from. I should probably do a post on this, in fact.

6. Michel Foucault. I’m not claiming to know Foucault’s work very well, but I read a fair amount of it for my bachelor’s thesis that focussed on the representation of female body in media. It’s difficult to be sure about those things in hindsight, but I believe many of my current views on the role of women and sexuality and power dynamics go back to this. Not that I agree with everything Foucault says, but I think it’s impossible to read him and emerge on the other side with your worldview completely intact.

7. Red lips. Keeping the red lip relevant is, in my view, a major service to mankind and France deserves a special award for making that happen. Almost any situation can be improved by the application of a great red lipstick, many of them p produced by the French (Chanel or YSL are my personal favourites). I am in fact sporting unapologetically red lips today, as I often do when things are bad.

And I really think I should finally learn to speak French now.

Pictured: macaroons by Laduree, Shalimar by Guerlain (my bottle of Fracas is so well-loved that it’s not fit to photograph), Anémones dans un vase bleu by Odilon Redon.