Being French sucks. Not when you are in your good old France, of course. It sucks when you’re away from home – from your Sony Playstation, so dear to your heart, from your local Topman, from all the Kanye West’s gigs. You leave it all behind in hope that you could continue doing these very same things in that new English-speaking country as well. But people here don’t want you to do those things, because they’re already doing them themselves. Instead, they expect you to be French as fuck. That’s a lot of pressure.
So, if you want to achieve something in this faraway land, you need to learn how to be “French”. Don’t know a thing about it? Just google the shit out of it! Become an expert!
Start with throwing away your cool beanie with a “Come De Fuck Down” sign on it and get yourself a beret. Forget about muesli with some yogurt for breakfast. Croissants and black coffee, mate! No beer for you from now on, wine is your thing! Learn to smack your lips elegantly while tasting it (apparently, it looks very European) and put a “sour face” on every time you drink anything but a French wine. Buy an old Peugeot bicycle with a wicker basket from a crazy old lady and make sure you’re always carrying a baguette inside it. Acquire a thick accent (forget your 10 years in English school), burn all your hoodies and start wearing neck scarves. Every time you talk about your hometown, roll your eyes up and smile dreamily. Yeah, I know, your hometown is a shithole, but hey, we’re playing a dangerous game here, so you know, fuck up and say something in French. “I’ve come to fix your pipes” sounds the best, in my humble opinion – the fuckers always buy it.
And here comes the toughest one. Now, hear me out. A lot of decent “French”-looking French dudes got busted, because they thought no one would know. But sooner or later they find out. They always do. So, you gotta promise me.
I know. I know. I feel for you, dawg. We keep him in our hearts – deep down, where no one can see. Promise me, G. It’s important.
So, if you’re ready to make this final step, you’d need a proper replacement. You have two musical options to choose from. You either go with Serge Gainsbourg, if you wanna tread lightly, or Edith Piaf, if you’re one tough motherfucker.
Now you’re sorted! Just stick to your story, keep the appearances, and very soon you gonna get everything a real “French” garçon is entitled to:
– a hip job (‘coz every boss would want to have you, being so perfectly French, on his team);
– a lot of free booze (people would just buy it for you, it’s the law);
– lots of pussy (no need to explain that, right?).
By the way, you don’t have to be French to get all that. Just follow all the above and you’ll be all good.
Being French does suck. Looking “French”, on the other hand, is amazing. Especially, when you’re Russian…
Photography by: Max Lemesh