Welcome, and bienvenue. No, really.
You may have heard things haven’t gone exactly to plan for Emmanuel Macron in the past couple of weeks.
I am obviously bursting for a rant but am not, in fact, a political commentator (maybe one day, when I officially get kicked out of fashion for going off topic.) For now, I’ll simply say I no longer feel there is any good short-term outcome possible, merely a slightly-less-terribly disastrous one one. But it ain’t over ‘til the thin lady sings La Marseillaise from the inside of a luxury boutique changing room while her husband selects fugly leather jackets. I get it, fashion is distracting. But come on.
What you’ve heard is true. People are (justifiably) angrier than usual in Paris, which is full of left, centrist and centre-right voters who generally wouldn’t vote RN if their very vies depended on it. As with other alt-right waves, this surging tide comes mostly from outside the capital, surrounding it from all sides before drowning it in confusion, controversy and its own surprisingly high-brow graffiti. Not letting Macron off the hook here —did someone spike his Evian June 9th?— but Sunday’s vote was a sucker-punch of a reminder that Paris is not in fact France.
I was on the metro bringing my daughter back from a play date on Sunday night when the first round results were announced and you cannot imagine the looks on people’s faces. One girl was actually crying. As my pithy pal Ellie Pithers mentioned in her Fashion Proust Questionnaire the other day, public transport is an excellent place to observe others. She was referring to their outfit choices but it’s also a great place to gage reactions to a big political moment. I also happened to be on the Eurostar at 6:30am the moment Trump’s win was officially confirmed in 2016 and I will not soon forget the faces of my fellow passengers.
There’s a warmer, happier wave about to hit Paris though. One with a little grinning face on it that my Mia keeps begging me to buy her.
It’s kind of ironic that immigration should be the most flammable topic in France right now, given the unprecedented flood of foreigners about to pour in for the games. Weirdly though, you should feel quite welcome. Trust me, the Parisians are psyched: so happy they’re packing up and leaving room for you to sublet their apartments. This remains a capitalist society after all. All political parties will agree on one thing and one thing only: your money is welcome here, visitor.
Please proceed proudly, cheer on your team loudly and allow me to give you my top ten tips for making the most of this hot mess of a Parisian summer. A summer which will definitely go down in history for many reasons. Hopefully, at least insofar as athletics are concerned, the best ones…