In every country, women have their own secrets for how to stay young and beautiful. But French women have the most natural charm in the world because they somehow manage to look 18 at the age of 42, like Audrey Tautou. Of course there are no universal tips that can help everyone, but French women definitely have some useful habits that help them stay charming at any age.
Bright Side has discovered the secrets of the beauty routine that almost all French women follow.
12. They don’t use contouring.
French women don’t like contouring because it hides the natural features of the face and looks unnatural. What they do love is a little bronzer on the cheeks to make themselves look fresh and shiny.
11. They don’t mind imperfection.
If you take a closer look at French women and their style, you will notice that almost all of them prefer a little messiness. It may be about hair, it may be about their accessories, like a scarf, or the way their clothes are sewn. This allows them to look natural and free, as if they don’t do anything special to look beautiful.
10. They prefer red lips.
You can always brighten up your appearance by using red lipstick. Women from Paris are completely convinced of this: it does not matter what your style is, you could be wearing torn jeans and a T-shirt or a dress with a huge hat. But adding red lipstick will immediately elevate any look.
9. They don’t get French manicures.
True French women never have “the perfect manicure” that took several hours to apply. Because this would send the message that you actually had to spend an immense amount of time, and money, on something so small.
Parisian women think that it is unnecessary, because they were already born beautiful and they are not going to spend hours on something so trivial. So, the most popular nail style among French women is short nails with clear polish or no polish at all. The same goes for their pedicure.
8. They have a hair styling secret.
French women prefer to not damage their hair and they don’t use a hair dryer or a flat iron every day. They mostly use expensive products — all of them have their favorite hair masks, and oil for their hair, and also a good hairbrush made of natural materials.
This is what they do to hair in France: they wash it and let it dry without a hair dryer, and the next day, when it becomes smooth, they style it.
7. Their makeup bag is not full of products.
French women have only 2 lipsticks: one natural color, and a red one for a great mood or an evening out.
They choose a light powder and a foundation to make their skin shine. But they don’t reapply it every hour, mostly so they don’t look like a wall with plaster on it. Healthy skin is supposed to shine just a little. They consider this is beautiful and natural.
Eye makeup only means mascara on the eyelashes. In the evening, they might add a messy, smoky eye effect. But it is supposed to be imperfect with that French element of messiness.
So, the 6 products in a French woman’s bag include: a good foundation, a powder with a shine, a mascara, an eyeliner, and 2 lipsticks. Now that’s an idea everyone should try!
6. They spend good money on haircuts.
Women in France are sure of one thing: you can wear €10 clothes and nobody will ever know that they are cheap, but get a cheap haircut once and your appearance will be completely ruined. This is why they are ready to pay a fortune to a good hairstylist and they go back to the same person for many years.
Also, a good haircut doesn’t need any fixing, so you don’t have to style your hair every day, only on very special occasions.
5. They have a simple beauty routine.
If there is one thing a French woman really needs it’s expensive cosmetics like a good face cleanser, a sunscreen, and a moisturizer. They will often add different oils for body and hair to this list.
In France, women live according to “the less is more” principle. They use just a few cosmetic products, but the ones they use are expensive.
So, when it comes to peels that are used all over the world, French women don’t really use them. They prefer masks, they use them really often, and they use a lot of different kinds — because good masks restore and rejuvenate the skin.
4. They believe in natural eyebrows.
You will never see a real French woman who has very heavy eyebrows that are an unnaturally dark color. Instead, they take good care of their eyebrows, making sure that they stay healthy, big, and thick.
They may put a little makeup on their eyebrows, but most of the time they don’t even do that. They just use some gel for styling.
3. They don’t diet.
Not a single French women in her right mind would ever start a diet. They are completely sure: the short-term effect of a calorie deficit is not only not worth the effort, but will also damage the skin because of the lack of vitamins.
For them, the main secret to having a beautiful body is eating a little. They eat anything they want, but not a lot of it. And when they feel that they are full, they just stop eating, not feeling forced to finish the meal.
However, French women do try to avoid an excess of sugar in their diet because it damages the skin. But they are not afraid of foods with a lot of fat.
2. They believe in the power of cold showers.
French women know about the importance of having a cold shower after a hot bath. This stimulates the blood circulation and helps to keep the skin toned. As a result, they always look fresh and cool.
1. They accept themselves as they are, flaws and all.
French women rarely need the services of plastic surgeons. It is very unlikely that you will meet an actress, a model, or a fashion blogger in Paris who has a fake nose, cheekbones, or lips that have fillers.
French women learn to accept themselves as they are, flaws and all. This is what makes them so different and alive. This is why French women are always able to highlight their advantages and their uniqueness.
Do you have your own tricks for how to stay beautiful that have been passed on from generation to generation? Share them with us!
Please note: This article was updated in April 2022 to correct source material and factual inaccuracies.
Preview photo credit kyliejenner / Instagram, East News
My Son Proposed to a Girl He’d Only Known for 3 Weeks—During the Ceremony, the Police Walked In
I never imagined my son’s wedding day would end with flashing lights and a runaway bride. When those men flashed their badges and called Lisa’s name, her face changed so fast it was like watching a mask slip.
When my son, Daniel, told me he was getting engaged after just three weeks of dating a girl named Lisa, my heart sank. We were having our regular Sunday dinner, Arnold grilling steaks outside while I finished the salad. Daniel had been unusually quiet all evening, checking his phone and smiling to himself.
A boy using his phone | Source: Midjourney
“Mom, Arnold, I have some news,” he announced, putting his water glass down with deliberate care.
Arnold came in from the patio, spatula still in hand. “Everything okay, buddy?”
“Better than okay.” Daniel’s face broke into a wide grin. “I’m getting married.”
I dropped the serving spoon. “You’re what?”
“Her name is Lisa. She’s amazing, Mom. She’s smart and funny and beautiful, and we just… connect, you know?”
Arnold sat down slowly. “How long have you been seeing this girl?”
A close-up shot of a man’s face | Source: Midjourney
“Three weeks,” Daniel said proudly, as if this was an accomplishment.
“Three weeks?” I echoed, my voice rising. “Daniel, that’s not enough time to decide what college courses to take, let alone choose a life partner!”
“I knew right away,” he insisted. “When you know, you know.”
“No, honey, you don’t,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “You think you know, but people show their best selves at the beginning. It takes time to truly know someone.”
“Lisa isn’t like that. She’s genuine. She gets me.”
A young man talking to another man | Source: Midjourney
Arnold, always the diplomat, tried a different approach. “What does she do? Where did you meet her?”
“At the campus coffee shop. She’s studying business. Mom, she’s so driven. She’s got these amazing plans for the future.”
“Daniel,” I said carefully, “you’re only 19. You have your whole life ahead of you. What’s the rush?”
His face hardened in that stubborn way I knew too well. “There’s no rush. It just feels right. I thought you’d be happy for me.”
A close-up shot of a man’s eyes | Source: Unsplash
“We want you to be happy,” Arnold said. “But we also want you to make good decisions. Marriage is serious.”
“I am serious,” Daniel snapped. “Lisa is perfect for me. She makes me feel like no one else ever has.”
Two days later, we met Lisa. I had to admit, she was stunning. Tall and poised with intelligent eyes and a dazzling smile. She charmed Arnold with questions about his job and complimented my home with the precision of an interior decorator.
A woman standing in a house | Source: Midjourney
“Your son is incredible, Mrs. Harrison,” she said, her voice musical. “I’ve never met anyone like him.”
There was something rehearsed about her, though. Like she knew exactly what to say and when to say it. And despite claiming to be 19, there was a worldliness to her that seemed beyond her years.
“Where did you grow up, Lisa?” I asked casually over dinner.
“Oh, all over,” she replied smoothly. “My dad’s job meant we moved a lot. It taught me to adapt quickly.”
Cardboard boxes in a house | Source: Pexels
Every answer was like that. Perfect but vague, deflecting further questions while sounding completely reasonable.
Later that week, Daniel told us he’d introduced Lisa to Morgan, his biological father.
“Dad thinks she’s amazing,” he declared triumphantly. “He said we have his full blessing.”
I called Morgan that night after Daniel left.
“Did you really give your blessing?” I demanded.
Morgan sighed. “What was I supposed to say, Christie? The kid’s got stars in his eyes. Besides, he’s an adult now.”
A man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels
“An adult who’s making a huge mistake!”
“Maybe,” Morgan conceded. “But sometimes people need to make their own mistakes.”
I tried reasoning with Daniel one more time. I told him he was too young, that he should finish college first, and that they could have a long engagement. But my impulsive, headstrong son wouldn’t budge.
“I love her, Mom,” he said simply. “I’m going to marry her.”
A young man talking to his mother | Source: Midjourney
As the days passed, I realized I had no choice but to support Daniel’s decision. When he told me they’d set a date, just six weeks away, I plastered on a smile and nodded.
“Lisa’s parents want to meet you,” Daniel said one evening, practically bouncing with excitement. “They’re in town this weekend.”
The meeting was at a restaurant downtown. Lisa’s parents, James and Elaine, seemed pleasant enough. Elaine had Lisa’s same striking features, and James was all firm handshakes and hearty laughs.
“We were surprised too,” James confided over appetizers. “But when you see them together, you understand.”
A man talking in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“Lisa has always known her own mind,” Elaine added. “When she’s certain, she’s certain.”
When the conversation turned to wedding plans, I braced myself for discussions of venues and caterers. Instead, Lisa’s mother surprised me.
“We don’t believe in extravagant ceremonies,” she explained. “In our family, we value the marriage more than the wedding day.”
“Just something small and meaningful,” James agreed. “No sense starting a life together buried in debt.”
Daniel nodded enthusiastically. “That’s what I’ve been telling Mom. Lisa and I want something simple.”
A young man sitting in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
Something still felt off, but they seemed so reasonable that I couldn’t pinpoint what was bothering me. By the time we left the restaurant, the wedding was set for three weeks later in a small rented hall downtown.
That night, I sat on the edge of our bed while Arnold got ready for sleep.
“Are we doing the right thing?” I asked, staring at the carpet. “Supporting this… rushed marriage?”
Arnold paused. “What choice do we have, Christie? He’s an adult.”
A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney
“But something doesn’t feel right,” I insisted. “Everything’s happening so fast. And Lisa… she’s lovely, but sometimes it feels like she’s performing rather than just being herself.”
Arnold sat beside me, his weight sinking the mattress. “You’re overthinking this. Daniel seems happy. Happier than I’ve seen him in ages.”
“But what nineteen-year-old knows what they want? What marriage means?”
“We were young when we got married.”
A couple holding hands on their big day | Source: Pexels
“That was different. I’d already been married and divorced. I had Daniel. And we dated for two years, not three weeks!”
Arnold slipped an arm around my shoulders. “Lisa seems like a nice girl, Christie. And if Daniel is happy, shouldn’t we be happy for him?”
“I’m trying,” I sighed. “I just can’t shake this feeling.”
“Mother’s intuition?” he asked with a small smile.
“Maybe.” I leaned into him. “Or maybe I’m just not ready for my baby to be married.”
The weeks flew by in a blur of hasty preparations.
A wedding planner | Source: Pexels
Before I knew it, we were booking the small hall, ordering a modest cake, and sending out invitations to a carefully curated guest list.
It all happened so fast that I barely had time to catch my breath.
On the morning of the wedding, everything seemed normal. The hall looked lovely with simple flower arrangements. Guests arrived in small groups, mingling and laughing.
Daniel, handsome in his suit, couldn’t stop smiling.
A groom smiling| Source: Midjourney
When Lisa arrived in a sleek white dress, she was radiant. Perfect makeup, perfect hair, perfect smile. But when she hugged me, her eyes darted over my shoulder, scanning the room.
For what, I wasn’t sure.
“Beautiful ceremony,” one of Morgan’s cousins commented as we took our seats.
I nodded, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach. As Daniel and Lisa took their places before the officiant, I noticed her parents exchanging glances. Not proud, loving glances. Something more like… nervous anticipation.
The officiant began speaking about love and commitment, but I barely heard the words.
A wedding officiant | Source: Midjourney
All I could focus on was Lisa’s face and the strange tension radiating from her perfect posture.
Then, just as the officiant asked if anyone had any objections, two men in plain clothes stepped into the hall. They weren’t dressed like the other guests. They were just wearing jeans and button-downs with serious expressions.
At first, nobody understood who they were until one of them pulled out a badge and said, “Miss Lisa, could we see you for a moment?”
Two men looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
At that point, Lisa’s smile vanished, replaced by something I’d never seen on her face before. Raw fear.
She stuttered something about needing to grab her ID from the coat check, and before anyone could react, she was gone. Out the back door. And so were her parents.
Confusion turned into chaos. Daniel stood there stunned, guests started murmuring, and the officiant awkwardly stepped aside. Arnold moved toward our son, placing a protective hand on his shoulder.
“What’s happening?” Daniel whispered.
A groom looking at his side | Source: Midjourney
I noticed Morgan striding toward the two men with a grim satisfaction of his face. That’s when I realized something wasn’t adding up.
“Morgan?” I called out. “What did you do?”
He turned to face me, then looked at Daniel. “Son, I’m sorry it had to happen this way.”
The two “policemen” weren’t shifting uncomfortably or taking control of the situation like real officers would. One of them was actually grinning now.
“They’re not real cops, are they?” I asked, the pieces suddenly falling into place.
Morgan had the decency to look ashamed. “No. I hired them. I had to do something before it was too late.”
A man at his son’s wedding | Source: Midjourney
“Dad, what are you talking about?” Daniel demanded, his voice cracking.
The wedding guests were gathering around us now, hungry for answers. Morgan gestured for everyone to calm down.
“Three weeks ago, I was meeting with a client at a bar downtown,” Morgan explained. “The bartender there, Joe, recognized Lisa from your phone picture. He pulled me aside. Told me she was a regular.”
A neon sign above a bar | Source: Pexels
“So what?” Daniel challenged.
“So, Joe also told me about her pattern. She finds wealthy young men, pretends to fall in love, rushes them to the altar, then finds ways to drain them financially. Sometimes it’s joint accounts she empties, sometimes it’s ‘family emergencies’ that need cash.”
I felt my knees weaken. “And her parents?”
“Not her parents,” Morgan said grimly. “Joe recognized them too. They’re just two people from her circle. Part of her crew.”
Daniel’s face had gone white. “You’re lying.”
“Son, there’s more,” Morgan continued gently. “Lisa is pregnant.”
A man at his son’s wedding | Source: Midjourney
Daniel’s eyes widened. “She… she never told me.”
“Because it’s not yours,” Morgan said. “Joe overheard her on the phone two days before she met you. She was bragging about finding a ‘rich fool’ she could trap into marriage, pretend the baby was his, and secure a comfortable life.”
“You’re lying,” Daniel repeated, but there was no conviction in his voice.
An upset boy | Source: Midjourney
I stepped forward, anger boiling inside me. “You knew all this, and you still gave your blessing? You let it get this far?”
“I needed proof,” Morgan said defensively. “I needed Daniel to see for himself.”
“By humiliating him on his wedding day?” I hissed.
“Better humiliated than bankrupted and raising another man’s child under false pretenses,” Morgan countered.
Arnold placed himself between them. “What matters now is Daniel.”
A man smiling | Source: Midjourney
We all turned to my son, who stood perfectly still, processing everything. Then he slowly removed the wedding band from his finger.
“Well,” he said quietly, “I guess that’s that.”
My heart broke for him. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said, his voice strengthening. “Dad’s right. Better now than later.”
The wedding guests were dispersing now, murmuring sympathetically. Someone had already started packing up the gifts. The cake sat untouched on its stand.
A close-up shot of a wedding cake | Source: Pexels
Daniel looked around the half-empty hall and gave a short, humorless laugh. “Some wedding day, huh?”
I pulled him into a hug, feeling him trembling slightly. “This isn’t your fault,” I whispered.
“I should have listened to you.”
“You loved her. There’s no shame in that.”
It took time for Daniel to heal from Lisa’s betrayal. Weeks passed before he smiled easily again. Months before he stopped checking his phone, half-expecting texts from her.
But at least he still had his dignity and his future intact. And maybe he’d learned to listen to his mother’s intuition once in a while.
A silhouette of a man | Source: Midjourney
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