Urban life, nostalgia, and a “third place”: Perth VS Paris

“Separation heightens your sentimentality” wrote Sarah Turnbull referencing her feelings about being an Australian living in France. When I was in France, I enjoyed reading how Turnbull felt because I too felt sentimental at times in grey rainy Paris, drinking my coffee on a friend's balcony, reminiscing on warmer days back home in Perth. Warmer days where I would so effortlessly walk down to my local beach, feel the sun kiss my skin, dive into the ocean's sparkling water; and weightlessly float on my back in all of it’s deep blue glory. Remembering memories like these would always trigger my yearning for an element of space that you always have in Perth. Space; far and wide, abundant and plenty. Space not just in relation to being the only person on the bus or the beach, but space in the ability to be alone with your thoughts without the white noise backdrop of a big city. When you leave Perth as someone who has lived there your whole life, things that you barely ever noticed get remembered as sharply as a burnt tongue. Remembering the clean streets and clean public spaces, the burning orange sunsets, or the clear blue skies for a better half of 9 months of the year. Returning from Europe, and now back in Perth, I have all of these things again that I was once so sentimental about mere months ago. Now because I have all of these things at my fingertips, of course I am sentimental of the way I lived in France. When things are so accessible, they lose their novelty. Humans are irrevocably dissatisfied and ungrateful creatures, therefore the more unreachable something is, the more we are programmed to desire it. Just as our mind tries to forget moments of trauma when dealing with shock, our mind also likes to remember good memories through rose-tinted glasses, and with nothing less than a few kilos of sugar. 

Now that I am back in Perth the element of space that now surrounds me feels so painfully empty, the heat so painfully hot, and the wine so painfully overpriced. Typical. Now I stare at all this space in front of me with a sigh, drowning in the sound of my own footsteps as I walk baron suburbia. Now I sit on empty buses and daydream of how it felt to wander down cobblestone streets being guided by nothing but the sweet smell of freshly baked bread and macaroons from the boulangerie. I miss discovering new places all the time, and getting lost down streets I never knew existed on lazy Sunday afternoons. I miss the charm of the historical buildings, and I miss savouring the flakey croissant crumbs that stuck to my buttery fingers every morning. I miss the cliché joie de vivre that the French take very seriously, and living in a society that doesn't have so many rules and regulations. I miss living in a place where it's socially acceptable to have a siesta without being called 'lazy', or to kiss your boyfriend on the park bench all afternoon without being called ‘promiscuous’. The way I was living in Europe now feels further away then every hour that I sat on the aeroplane for. I know the grass is only greener where you water it, but sometimes there are uncontrollable factors in helping your own patch of grass grow; like the soil, the climate, and the water. I have great respect for both cities, Perth, and Paris, because like babies that i’ve both held close within me before, I can feel their pulse, i've listened to them closely, and I can feel the way they move.

Paris is alive, alluring, and mysterious. Among all of her charming glory, you never know who you’re going to meet around one of her street corners. Paris has a constant Amelie soundtrack that is sung from all of her terraces, and is projected from her tower. Paris has parks to stroll, and lounge chairs to think. Paris has lots of little parties, in very small apartments. But most of all, Paris has cafes. Around 7000. The cafe for the Parisian is their quintessential “third place”. The concept of the "third place" very much helps in understanding the difference in urban life around the world. Everyone living in modern society has three metaphorical places. After the “first place” of home, and the “second place” of work, a third place is an easy, inexpensive, and accessible place for all, where people build sense of community and relationships. Sociologist Ray Oldenburg who coined the term says that these third place’s are critical in ensuring a healthy balance in one's life. Parisians treat cafes as their third place because everyone lives close to one, the drinks are cheap, and when your apartment is 17m2; the cafe downstairs with the large cafe terrace unofficially becomes your living room. During the German occupation in the 40's, many Parisians including the famous literary community would install themselves in Parisian cafes to keep warm around the popular wood-firefire stoves,  escaping their cold apartment or cold hotel rooms. Paris’s institutionalised third place of cafes today are just as popular as they were 50 years ago.

PARIS DENSITY

(Images source: http://chartingtransport.com/2015/11/26/comparing-the-densities-of-australian-and-european-cities/)

Perth is fresh, sunny, and safe. Due to Australia’s abundance of land, wealth, and small population of only 27 million, we have had the luxury in being extremely greedy with our space in all of our cities. ‘The Australian Dream’ includes owning your own land with a 4 bedroom and 2 bathroom big house and back garden with a pool. This is why a Perthians third place is their home. Perth is very spread out city where it’s metropolitan spans 120 km north to south along the Indian Ocean, and 40km from east to west. Perth city is an expensive place to be entertained, so instead people often prefer to meet at friend's homes. Because a majority of people who live in Perth share the same first and third place, this creates a point of segregation between individuals, and hinders the creation of the sense of community that every third place should create. This is why many people will tell you that a good time in Perth is only relative to the company you keep. The spread out Perth lifestyle is not only unsustainable regarding urban sprawl and environmental issues, but for cultural, health, and safety issues. Vibrant neighbourhoods are not created by shutter blinds or white picketed fences. Big shopping centres that monopolise the market and run out locally owned artisanal shops deprive potential culture of suburbia; because nothing says ‘soul-less hub’ like 4 fast-food chains side by side each other.

PERTH DENSITY

(Image source: http://chartingtransport.com/2015/11/26/comparing-the-densities-of-australian-and-european-cities/)

When a city like Perth is so webbed out with suburbs and has a public transport system that is both unpunctual and infrequent, having a car becomes a suburban priority. Because people are commuting longer distances to their first and second place, driving becomes a more accepted form of transport, therefore people are no longer walking to school or work, they’re taking the car instead. Besides the vicious cycle that is then created between cars and roads, and then the multiple health problems of people doing less exercise; less social contact on the streets does not help in creating safe and walkable neighbourhoods. Parents stop letting their children play on the streets because there is no on in sight except for the occasional ice-cream truck or male predator in a white van. Parisian children play in streets with a bigger sense of ease from their parents because they know wherever their children are, there will always be at least 100 pairs of eyes in apartment terraces watching from above.

All Perth homes have a 2 car garage space, which further encourages minimal social interaction within their community. When a Perthian drives home from work and straight into their garage, they close their garage instantly, just like their connection to the rest of society for the day. Being in an apartment-living dominated city like Paris, you are almost forced to make some form of communication when you pass the same people every day either in the hallway or the lift. I’ve lived on the same street in Perth for nearly all my life, and like most of the people in Perth, I can't tell you anything more about my neighbours except for the cars they drive.

Many people also argue that Australia's third place is now becoming the virtual presence on social media and multi player gaming. Due to Australia's access to the worlds latest technology, our technological connectivity is at an unprecedented level. Australians on the whole are socialising more  in the virtual world than in the real world, and working from home is now even a feasible option for many due to advances in technology. This is a questionable social advance that technology poses for modern society; because if people are living at their home, working from home, and socialising from home (virtual and real world); what does that do for an individuals psychological wellbeing that has shown to be highly influenced by community interaction? 

Starbucks' CEO, Howard Schultz came up with the idea of Starbucks after going to Italy and being amazed at the balance of Italian's lives between home work and play, particularly by the act of their morning coffee culture routine. Schultz wanted to bring that same element of a third place that he experienced in Europe to the USA because he felt that there was was a real lack of place between home and work in the United States at the time. Now with the worlds increasingly accessible internet connection, Starbucks has free wifi in all of it's cafe's, and in turn has evolved into the worlds best known 'internet cafe'. What was once supposed to be a place for creating community and discussion, is now a place for people to wear earphones and to be glued into their screens.

Humans are curious animals, we like to watch how other people live their lives. A Perth’ians love for personal space and security within suburbia evidently comes at a the price of the lack of civility and empathy. Paris is a lot older than Perth, therefore establishing culture in Perth will come with nurture and time. There is no such thing as a perfect city, but the grass will be greener in Perth when our urban planners and government recognise the importance of a third place in creating a more liveable city, rather than repeatedly genuflecting to the developers.

The bags under my eyes are Chanel: My interpretation of French style.

The French have style. I’m not just talking about a ‘my shoes go with my bag’ kind of style, i’m talking about a whole lifestyle dedicated to being #chic. I was in Jardin du Luxembourg in Paris last week, and it was the most beautiful public space I have ever seen in my life. Every rose petal, every perfectly cut lawn of grass, and every pebblestone that lay on the pathway, was not a single degree off perfection. When you visit parks in Paris, you feel like you could be part of an impressionist painting. Strolling along the pathways you feel like Renoir could be sitting on the bench right across from you, dabbling away on his easel with half a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Jardin du Luxembourg does not feel like the kind of ‘park’ i’m used to back in Australia. Jardin to Luxembourg is living, breathing, permanent 5D art installation. Smartly dressed children quietly play with their sailing boats on the pond, while their parents recline on the individual green art deco chairs provided. Everyone that I passed throughout the park was also somehow so polished and refined, clearly taking pride in their appearance. I saw a elderly woman in her 70’s wearing the most classic shift dress with a beige shawl, and holding her hand beside her was a young girl about 9 wearing a red beret, looking like she had just stepped out of Madeline. Walking around the park it was apparent that no one was shouting, no one was being loud, and the only form of racquet that I heard was a boy that shouted, ‘pas encore!’ (Not again!) when he realised that he’d just lost his chess game. Lovers playfully kissed on the bench to the right of me, and school students nibbled away at their baguettes on the bench to the left of me. It’s also worth noting that the grass throughout the park is absolutely not for walking on. ‘Oh sacré bleu my hat just flew off onto the grass, what should i do?’’ You find yourself wondering? Leave it. Forget about it. It’s gone. Keep walking. If someone is not aware of this rule and steps onto the grass, they will be quietly told to “step off immediately” by a fellow watching ranger, and/or an angry Parisian. Parks in France are a perfect example of the French beauty, over practicality, approach to life. If an Englishman was to ask a Frenchman, ‘ha-whey man ye kana innit canny weird that the graz is def there for like walkin’ oan n playin’ football oan summick, lyk’ a Frenchman would probably respond: “Yes my sweet little english mcmuffin, but isn’t it so much more pleasurable to admire this beautiful grass rather than stamping aggressively all over it?” After I thought I was finished playing around in my 50% reality 50% daydream of Jardin du Luxembourg, I heard a faint sound of music coming from the north wing of the park. It was official, Paris had officially outdone itself. Before me stood 50 piece jazz band with a conductor all dressed in black, completely free for the people of the Paris. This for me, was France.

I wanted to share my experience that I had at Jardin du Luxembourg because it’s the best analogy that I think of that illustrates French style. To the French it would be crude to talk about their ‘style’ because it’s something they were born into, it’s practically engrained into their DNA. The way colour coordinated macaroons are so perfectly placed in the shop windows, the way a perfectly groomed Pomeranian sits by its owner at a restaurant, the way an adolescent drinks their wine and water at the dinner table; it’s all done in such a uniquely French manner. At the beginning it all felt very rigid and strict to me, I mean I come from a country where half the population doesn’t even wear shoes. After the first couple of weeks I reminded myself that in order to crack to the language I needed to assimilate into French culture as much as possible. Once I started getting into a routine and seeing how people lived on a day to day basis, it was suddenly apparent that there was a very clear ‘French way’ to do things. 

Everything is very relaxed back in Australia, including the fashion, where you can wear whatever you want, whenever you want. The style of fashion between your middle class Frenchmen and your middle class Australian is certainly worlds apart. As a generalisation in Australia, girls have a lot of clothes, because we wear different things for different occasions. We have home clothes, beach clothes, casual clothes, smart clothes, and the infamous clubbing clothes. In France, girls have clothes they wear inside the house, and then clothes they wear outside the house. The quality over quantity rule is a reoccurring theme in French lifestyle. French women invest in stable wardrobe pieces, and stick to them everyday. Australian girls go op-shopping and buy 20 pieces for 10 dollars, but only keep the clothes for 4 months. There are hundreds of books attempting to un-crack the code to how to ‘dress like a French woman’, but it’s really not that difficult. If you want attempt to look French, stick to neutral colours, buy 5 pairs of jeans, buy a fitted blazer, throw out all your figure hugging clothes, throw out all your shorts, throw out all your clothes with labels on them, buy 5 scarves; et voilà. 

The French wear the same things during the week as they do on the weekends. In Australia every student who goes to school must wear a school uniform. Whether it’s a school shirt, or a school blazer, you must wear something with a school emblem on it. Uniform brings a sense equality and suppresses potential competition, but in turn, suppresses individuality. At my school in Australia we were stripped of any chance of being different. Girls were not allowed to wear jewellery, makeup, nail polish, or change our hair to a non-natural looking hair colour. Socks had to be a certain colour, and even wearing a bra that wasn’t clearly white or beige was a quick way to get sent home. On the weekends in Australia, girls feel like they are set free of their shackles and have the opportunity to remind boys that they are in fact, girls. Tight body con dresses and un-walkable high heels was always a famous ‘go to’ party outfit. This is a very clear difference between France and anglo-sexton countries. Not even prostitutes on the side of the road in France are caught wearing super tight body con dresses. Girls in the clubs in France are wearing the same jeans, jacket and ballet flats that they were wearing previously at dinner. 

No one wants to look like they’re trying too much in France, and it’s seen as vulgar if you look like you’re too dressed up. It’s like the time I was getting ready to go out on a date and my French friend said to be in the bathroom, “maybe don’t worry about makeup Taylor”. The next day she told me if a girl wears makeup on a first date it can often be misleading, kind of like if she was to wear high heels.  Makeup is a much loved product in Australia just like other anglo countries, and i’ve been with friends in Australia who have taken a whole 40 minutes to apply all their desired makeup. I'm not a fan of makeup because I'm inherently lazy and it takes (what feels like) years to scrape all off. French girls are hardly ever caught wearing makeup. It’s hard to be a French girl you see, because in Australia if you’re ugly you can at least convince everyone that you’re someone else by contouring your face and wearing misleading clothes. In France, you’re kind of stuck. French style is about looking sophisticated, but at the same time looking #effortless. Nothing is more un-effortless to the French than seeing a woman wearing an uncomfortably bright pink dress and wearing makeup like industrial house paint. French woman may appear cool and collected on the exterior, but it’s sure that they are each individually fighting their own battles to make maintain their desirable ‘French woman’ image. Expectations that they maintain a feminine petite figure, that they have a perfectly tailored wardrobe, great skin, perfectly shaped nails, naturally shinny hair, and all while that they #literally #wokeuplikethis. 

My first english speaking friend that I made in Nantes was called Simon. Simon owns a clothing store called California Concept Store which sells clothes inspired by the surf and skating lifestyle culture. I got told by my French friends that he is a nice contact to have because the store is very well known for being a ‘cool place’ to go. Last night I went to a party that California Concept Store was hosting along side the label Tealer (weed aesthetic independent French music label), and it was called ‘Tealer Kush Party’. Aside from the cringeworthy name of the event it was really good, and was not one bit of the #smokeweedeveryday vibe I thought it was going to be. California Concept Store would not be as successful if it was in Australia, because it’s what most of our clothes shops are already like, and have been like for a while. Because the French style is often so strict, any clothing shop that gives people the freedom to wear something a bit different and get away with it, is celebrated. California Concept Store is seen to be selling ‘alternative’ clothes in Nantes, and if someone is wearing a snapback they seen as a #fashionrebel. The youth in Australia stopped wearing the American jock/snapback hats in around 2013. The only trend that I can see in France that has really taken off is the ‘hipster’ look, and it will continue to stay around because anything that makes you look intellectual here is #chic. The French stick to what they know best, and are not ones to follow trends. In Australia we are completely influenced by ‘trends of the season’, like vintage grandma, 70s boho hippy child/Jim Morrisons girlfriend, sport lux, sea punk, turnt up, bindis/circa 90s, and all the rest. The French are not interested because they know it’s their classic style that will stand the test of time. Of course they’re right, but at the same time I think it’s important to go through different fashion subcultures when you’re an younger because you’re #emotional, and trying to figure yourself out. One of my French friends always talks to me about her dream of moving to London, because she knows she could wear whatever she wanted in London, and wouldn’t stand out like she would in France. 

Have you ever had the pleasure of witnessing a French person write? If so, you will know how beautiful it was. In French primary schools, cursive handwriting classes are compulsory that start from a very young age. In high school, calligraphy is a popular class option from the art classes provided. When I was studying French at university, I remember my professor telling me that once her teacher in primary school refused to mark her work because she said it wasn’t written neat enough. The French appreciate maintaining refined beauty in every detail of their life. I was having lunch at a French friends family home one time, and I put my water bottle on the table because I was drinking from it before, and it was still half full. My friends mum was clearly not impressed as she swooped my water bottle away to the kitchen and instead replaced it with a glass. ‘Nous ne buvons pas d'une bouteille d'eau à la table (we don't drink from a water bottle at the table)” she told me. Awkward. 

As ecologically sustainable as banning single-use plastic bags sounds, I think it’s clear that France also banned them because they weren’t #chic enough. Just like paying taxes, and voting in elections, being stylish is a duty of being a French citizen. When you’re born in a country that has given birth to some of the worlds biggest fashion houses, it’s expected that you’ve taken a few notes. When a nation’s favourite pastime is sitting at a cafe and people watching, nothing goes by unnoticed. Living in France you are a part of a society that will notice the slightest things when you walk by, like the way your scarf is tied, how your sunglasses rest on your face, or even how you light your cigarette. But don’t be fooled, style and money is not the same thing in France. Talking about money in the slightest, like dropping how much your shoes cost in conversation, is seen as extremely distasteful. The French can afford to wear their beautiful stable pieces everyday because their favourite hobbies are done sitting stationary; reading, writing, eating, drinking, judging. In Australia you can’t afford to wear your favourite Kym Ellery dress to a BBQ because someone will spill tomato sauce or VB all down the front of it. Our favourite hobbies in Australia include getting dirty, so we can’t always wear stylish clothes; but for the French the only dirty activities they enjoy don’t involve wearing any clothing at all.