What does it truly mean to live “à la Française”? To me, it isn’t about a checklist of luxury items or a specific zip code. It is a fundamental shift in posture. In France, we often say we live in the être (to be) rather than the faire (to do) or the avoir (to have). Life doesn’t revolve around the climb; it revolves around the pause, the “apéro” with friends, the slow steam of a café crème, or a debate that lasts until the candles burn low.
As a native, I’ve realized that the French lifestyle is less a set of rules and more a collection of small, intentional rebellions against the rush of modern life. Here is how I’ve learned to embrace the art of living.
1. Become a Flâneur
To “flâner” is to stroll with no destination, yet with a very clear purpose: to observe. When I walk through Paris or Amsterdam, I try to channel Baudelaire’s “passionate spectator.” I don’t walk to get from A to B; I walk to witness the “ebb and flow” of the city. To be a flâneur is to be rooted in the present, finding immense joy in the infinite details of a limestone facade or the way light hits a zinc rooftop.
2. Practice Discretion
There is a quiet dignity in the French mantra: “Pour vivre heureux, vivons cachés” (To live happily, live hidden). In my experience, happiness is often found in the things we don’t post online. We tend to be reserved; we speak softly, we don’t overshare, and we value modesty. It’s not about being cold; it’s about protecting the intimacy of your own success and showing respect for those who may not share your luck.
3. Keep Money Private
Money is the one thing we rarely discuss at the dinner table. To me, this silence is a heritage, partly Catholic, partly peasant, that suggests profit shouldn’t be the loudest thing about a person. I find there is something incredibly refreshing about getting to know someone’s soul, their humor, and their ideas before ever knowing their salary.
4. Make Museums Part of Your Life
I grew up seeing museums not as cold institutions, but as extensions of our living rooms. Whether it’s the grand halls of the Louvre or a small neighborhood gallery, engaging with art is a common weekend pulse. When the state invests so heavily in culture, it becomes accessible to everyone, it’s our collective wealth, and we treat it as such.
5. Read Philosophy (Even Slowly)
In France, philosophy isn’t just for academics; it’s a mandatory rite of passage in school. It taught me the most important skill I own: intellectual freedom. To use one’s own reason, to question, and to contemplate. If you’re looking to start, I often return to the clarity of Camus’s The Fall or the sharp wit of Voltaire’s Candide.
6. Choose Real Conversation Over Small Talk
In London, I realized I didn’t miss the Eiffel Tower; I missed the “terrasse” debates. We often skip the small talk (bavardage) in favor of the “grande conversation.” No topic is too heavy or controversial. I love the friction of a good debate, it’s how we “refaisons le monde” (remake the world) over a bottle of wine.
7. Learn to Say “Non”
In many cultures, “no” is an ending. In France, it often begins one. From our history of protest to our daily interactions, a “non” is a way of setting boundaries and prioritizing needs. Learning to say “no” more often has saved me from burnout and allowed me to show up more authentically for the things that truly matter.
8. Accept the Art of Complaining
We aren’t just complainers; we are râleurs. For me, râler is a social tic, a way to bond over the imperfections of life. Whether it’s the weather or the government, sharing a small grievance is an act of authenticity. It signals that we aren’t naive; we know life isn’t picture-perfect, and there is a strange intimacy in admitting that together.
9. Value Authenticity
People sometimes mistake French honesty for rudeness, but I prefer to see it as a devotion to authenticity. We inherited a distaste for the “hypocrisy of the court” from the Revolution. I’ve learned that expressing an emotion truthfully, even if it’s a bit clumsy, is far more respectful than a polished, insincere smile.
10. Learn to Cook, Even Simply
French cuisine is our “intangible heritage,” but on a daily level, it’s about moderation and quality. I grew up with the theatricality of the meal, the maître d’hôtel spirit, even at home. It’s about the “Haute Cuisine” mindset: better ingredients, prepared with patience, served with pride.
11. Embrace the Apéritif
The apéritif is my favorite hour. It’s the bridge between the workday and the evening, a pre-dinner drink that resets the palate and the mind. It’s not about the alcohol; it’s about the transition. It’s a moment to exhale and say, “The work is done; now, we live.”
12. Protect Your Lunch Break
I am always amazed by the rush of lunch elsewhere. To me, lunchtime is sacred. It’s not a moment to “refuel” at a desk; it’s a 45-minute ritual of sitting down, usually with others. It’s a cultural exception that reminds us we are human beings, not machines.
13. Keep Sundays Sacred
Sunday in France feels different. The stores are mostly closed, the streets are quieter, and the “déjeuners dominicaux” (Sunday lunches) stretch lazily into the afternoon. It is a day dedicated to absolutely nothing but être (being). I’ve learned to cherish this forced pause; it’s the only way to truly recharge.
14. Approach Wellness Gently
I don’t believe in drastic health trends or punishing workouts. My approach to wellness is about “prendre soin de soi”, taking care of oneself through small, daily pleasures. It’s about accepting flaws as “charme” rather than fixing them. True beauty, I’ve found, comes from not trying quite so hard.
15. Live in the Être
If I could summarize my culture in one sentence, it’s this: Stop checking tasks off a list and start inhabiting the moment. When I sit on a terrace and feel the sun on my face, I don’t think about tomorrow. I simply say, “On est bien là”, we are good here.
