Recently, I came across the term “Sunday Reset”, a popular concept that encourages people to spend Sundays organizing, cleaning, and preparing for the week ahead. I had never heard of it before, and I found it fascinating. The idea is simple: dedicate Sunday to order and productivity: doing laundry, planning meals, setting intentions to feel calmer before Monday. A day that’s half self-care, half efficiency. But when I read about it, I smiled. Because that’s not how we spend our Sundays in France. And perhaps that’s exactly what makes them so special.
Sunday in France: a Day Apart
When I moved back to France last year and spent a year living in Bordeaux, I was struck by how the country slows down every weekend. By Saturday evening, everything slows; shops close, the streets quiet down, and time itself feels different. Most stores are closed on Sunday, except for bakeries and a few food shops that open only until early afternoon. If you’ve ever wandered through Paris, Lyon, or Bordeaux on a Sunday, you’ve likely felt it: the calm streets, the soft light, the gentle hum of a city at rest.
Some traditions endure: church for a few, the family lunch for many. There’s still the beloved poulet rôti ritual: every Sunday morning, butchers roast chickens to perfection, ready to be picked up at noon, often served with golden potatoes or buttery green beans. It’s a small but meaningful rhythm, a shared ritual of simplicity, warmth, and time. On Sundays in France, people cook, stroll, read, and call their families. But most importantly, they allow themselves to do absolutely nothing, without guilt :). And maybe that, after all, is our truest form of self-care.
In France, the “Catch-Up Day” is Saturday
If French women don’t do a “Sunday Reset,” it’s because we already have our “catch-up day”: Saturday. Since most stores are closed on Sundays, we do everything the day before: errands, grocery shopping, cleaning, appointments, the hairdresser, the gym, the children’s activities. Saturday becomes the day for productivity, and as a result, it’s often exhausting. That’s precisely why Sunday remains untouched. It’s the counterbalance to a week, and a Saturday, that are often too full. One day for everything, and one day for nothing :). An equilibrium that feels almost philosophical.
My Own French Sunday Ritual
For my fiancé and me, Sunday is sacred. We make no plans, no commitments. I sleep in, or, as we say in French, faire la grasse matinée. I cook or bake something simple but indulgent. Sunday is my favorite day to try new recipes, often with mixed results, which he tastes patiently, somewhere between brave and amused. I love the quiet of these afternoons: reading, writing, or watching a film. It’s often the moment when I open my inbox and reply to your letters and messages, what I fondly call le courrier des lecteurs. So if you receive an email from me on a Sunday, now you know the scene: a cup of tea, something sweet from the oven, and the peaceful silence of the day around me. When the weather is good, we go for a walk with no destination in mind, just to move, observe, breathe. A coffee, a bench, a slow afternoon. That’s all. And it’s enough.
Since moving back to Amsterdam, I’ve kept this French rhythm. Even though the shops stay open here, I still love treating Sunday as a quiet day apart, proof that you don’t have to live in France to live a little à la française.
How to Recreate a French Sunday, Wherever You Live
Many of you write to me from all over the world, asking how to live more à la française. The good news is: you don’t need to live in France to enjoy a French-style Sunday. Start by slowing down. Decide that this one day isn’t for catching up, it’s for letting go. Don’t fill your schedule. Turn off notifications. Let your mind wander. Cook a meal, call someone you love, read something beautiful. And if you prefer to spend the day on the sofa watching a series, do that too, without guilt :). A French Sunday isn’t a routine; it’s a state of mind, a day that’s slower, softer, and entirely your own.
Perhaps the Real French Secret…
Perhaps the real French secret isn’t about how we dress or decorate our homes, but how we allow time to stretch, imperfectly, quietly, without performance. To do exactly what we feel like doing, or nothing at all. Because maybe true French chic begins there: in the calm freedom of a Sunday with no “reset.”
