You can’t accuse me of a boring consistency in the books I write about on this blog. Last week’s book had a gun on the cover and talked about the logistics of killing someone; this week’s tells you why you should dress, eat and indeed live like an elegant Frenchwoman. (Note to guys reading this: the rest of February’s books are also going to be pretty female-centric. Fine with me if you want to read the blogs or the books themselves. I’m just a-sayin’.)
I can’t quite remember why or how I ran across this book, although I do know that I actually bought it, a rarity for me. It was enjoyable and, I thought at the time, pretty lightweight, one of many memoirs about Americans going to France and finding out what they’ve been missing.