I have found the perfect bracelet for the ceremony
Tomorrow is the end of a journey for me. I have my citizenship ceremony at 9.30 am. Then, I will be a British citizen. I thought that it was going to be a formality but I can already feel butterflies in my tummy. I also have a vague feeling of betrayal, probably because my education instilled in me a sense that nothing could top up France. Everybody keeps asking me why I want to become British, which doesn’t help. After all, with a French passport, surely I don’t need to become British. Well, my daughters are answering back to me in English now and, the more I look at what is happening in France, the more I am convinced that I am making the right choice. I will have dual citizenship anyway.
What really tipped the scales in favour of British citizenship was what happened a little over a month ago. National French newspaper “Liberation”’ main headline was as follows:
This is a picture of Bernard Arnault, one of the wealthiest French businessmen, with a luggage. The headline translates “P**s off, rich c**t !” – without the stars, obviously. The rude headline was published because Bernard Arnault has applied for Belgium citizenship. He denies that his application is for tax reasons and will keep his dual nationality, but because of it he had to face a torrent of abuse.
I am stunned. The violence of this headline gets me. This is pure incitation to hate, don’t you think? Is it ever acceptable to insult somebody in such a public way? Whatever your political opinion might be, I don’t think that the use of such an invective is ever justified. I hope that Bernard Arnault will win his case against them. Castigating the rich and the entrepreneurs might not help the ailing French economy. Quite the opposite, in fact. Let’s face it: I don’t understand my home country any more.
To make matters even worse, this headline also implies that applying for another nationality makes you a bad person. There are all sorts of reasons why people want to apply for another citizenship. As for me, I just moved to London to keep my family together. Should have I stayed in France out of patriotism? Please, give me a break.
The good news is that I seriously doubt that my application will make any headline. Phew! Just don’t tell the French!
Muriel – A French Yummy Mummy In London
Everything is doom & gloom and it was time to talk about something a bit more light hearted, don’t you think?
So here it is: Fleur Pellerin is a newly appointed French Minister.
She is in charge of the digital economy, but I am not quite sure what it entails. Naively, I thought that she had an office on Second Life but no, I was wrong, that’s not the case. But I digress. Have you seen the picture of the skirt she was wearing a couple of weeks ago? First of all, is it even a skirt? Might it not be a large belt? Is it even possible that she forgot her skirt?
OK, I will admit it: I am a bitter old lady who might be (a bit) jealous of her legs. Actually that’s not true and to prove my point here is a picture of my legs. Yes, it’s me and no, you won’t see more. Not bad for an almost 40-years old, eh? See, I am absolutely NOT jealous.
Anyway, I might be more French than I thought, after all. What I like about London is that I can go out in my PJs or with my husband’s shirts and nobody bats an eyelid. In this country, you are not judged by the way you look and it feels great. Actually, it is more than great, it is liberating!
But here it is: Fleur Pellerin’s non-existing skirt is simply too short. She looks like she is going to paint the town red. I might let my teenage daughter go to a disco dressed like this but that’s about it…Fleur Pellerin was, in fact, going to a crisis meeting following the outage of a major mobile provider. It might have been a crisis, but come on, she doesn’t look too stressed, does she?
So why do I feel so judgemental? What is wrong with me? I like the fact that there are more women in politics and Fleur Pellerin, an adopted child, is a living proof that the social elevator might still be working in France. I am not the fashion police and should not care about what she wears.
But I do. And I feel slightly cheated. Come on, I am sure that her colleagues could see her ministerial brief and that’s simply a step too far, don’t you think?
Nb: if you could leave a comment saying that you prefer my legs it would make my day. Thanks in advance.
Muriel – A French Yummy Mummy In London