Posted by / Category London, Looking Good /


Have you noticed that we women have a much tougher deal than men? Seriously, why do we have so much pressure on our shoulders? How are we supposed to ‘have it all’? Seriously, just try to list all we have to do all the time:

1. We have to look good

2. We have to be great cooks BUT..

3. We mustn’t put on weight -of course we mustn’t (see point 1)

4. We have to take care of the children, the household, and sometimes a job on top of everything else (don’t talk to me about sharing the workload, we women always end up with more than our fair share. Always. Sorry, guys.)

5. We have to pretend that we are not tired (no, Darling, not at all) when hubby is in need of some affection

6. We must always be a good daughter/wife/sister/friend/person…(doesn’t it upset you that men can get away with murder when we get slammed just because we forgot a birthday card or, even worse, we got a bit angry at someone or something? Seriously, why the double standard? )

7. We have to justify our every move when men NEVER get a single comment about their choices (Yes, I want to run a marathon. But what about the time it will take to train? Now give me a break, this is a question you wouldn’t ask if I were a guy. See what I mean?)

And so on, and so forth. It just never stops.

Continue Reading

Posted by / Category London, Uncategorized /

Sometimes, the simplest things are the best ones. It’s good to live a little anyway. I must admit that I have always been a fan of Crème Brûlée. I like it best in my husband’s plate for some reason -he usually moans but always let me have some. Don’t ask me why…Ah, the joy of being married!-.

Crème brûlée, as I am sure you know, is a French term for a rich baked custard made with cream, rather than with milk. The custard is topped with a layer of sugar (usually brown) which is then caramelised (with a blowtorch or under a grill). Suffice to say, it is delicious. Who needs complicated food anyway? Sometimes I just need a treat, and I like real food. Crème brûlée just does the job. What’s not to like about it?

If you are French, there is a proper etiquette to enjoy Crème brûlée. You see, it is all about the top layer. You need to take your spoon and gently tap the caramelised sugar before eating it. The top layer must break. This looks anodyne but it is an important test for us French. If the top layer doesn’t break, then the Crème Brûlée isn’t how it should be. It’s too hard. But it the top layer breaks as soon as the spoon touches it, it isn’t good either. You want something perfect. Now you are in the know. The devil is in the details.

As most good desserts, some argue it is French dessert, others say it is English. Of course they do. Yeah right. Whoever invented it, let me confirm that it is definitively a French name. Just saying. Because for some reason everything sounds better in French. I will never understand why, but I have learned to go with the flow.

Continue Reading

Posted by / Category Cultural Differences, London, Looking Good /

I hadn’t realised that there were so many articles about the French paradox out there. That’s actually another paradox: we French are not really aware that there is, apparently, a French paradox. So what is it all about? Well, to cut a long story short, despite drinking more wine and eating an awful lot of fatty stuff, we French tend to suffer less (20% less, if you must know) from coronary heart diseases. What can I say? Life is seriously unfair.

The Internet is awash with lessons that the world needs to learn from France. Other deny that such a paradox even exists. Fear not, I will not lecture anyone. It’s not my style anyway, and I hate lecturing (or being lectured, if you must know).
I first realised that there was a French paradox when a British colleague of mine explained it to me. I couldn’t believe it. She added that it was healthy to drink a glass of red wine a day, and that from then on she had decided to do it (because it was healthy, of course). I wasn’t convinced. And I wanted to point out that a glass of wine wasn’t the whole bottle anyway. I didn’t say anything in the end. You can’t fight all battles, right?

Continue Reading