Paris Do, Paris Don't

#73 DON’T Be Naughty

Nothing says Christmas quite like a little corporal punishment. The French have a special Yuletide character that not only spreads Christmas joy but also quite literally beats it into people. I’m talking about the dear French Christmas cohort, Père Fouettard. While Anglo-Saxons believe that naughty chilluns deserve an innocuous lump of coal from Santa, the French believe Santa flies around accompanied by a homicidal sadomasochist with a tinge of pedophilia named Père Fouettard who gives naughty children a whipping if they don’t behave. Legend has it that Ol’ Père Fouettard drugged some schoolboys slit their throats then chopped them into pieces and stewed them in a barrel until a kinder Père Noël found the boy’s bodies and forced the repentant Fouettard into a life of x-mas servitude. Under Père Noël’s command, Fouettard is armed with a cat o’ nine tails and must beat the naughty out of brats from Christmas last. I’m sure this is both a constructive and therapeutic outlet for this psychopath, who knew St. Nick was so New Age?! I don’t know about you, but this tradition certainly would’ve scared the naughty right out of me; no wonder the French are so polite, quiet and well behaved, they were raised believing a homicidal maniac was just waiting to drop down their chimney and beat the crap out of them. The moral of the story is: if you find yourself in France during the holiday season, you better watch out, because Santa Claus +1 is coming to town.

fun fact: did I mention he usual appears in blackface next to Santa during Christmas festivities.

#68 DON’T faire du lèche-vitrine 2011

Of late, Boulevard Haussmann is what bad dreams are made of compliments of les grands magasins Printemps and Galleries Lafayette. In Paris, the even grander Inauguration des Vitrines, marks the beginning of the consumer season à Paris. This year however, I wish someone could please explain to me what exactly about a bunch of tangled marionettes with creepy grins strumming guitars and caressing an army of tiny Karl Lagerfelds has to do with Christmas. Maybe they got confused and put up the Halloween decorations instead?! I can only assume that the people over at Lafayette and Printemps let their Scandinavian interns do the window dressing because they figured no Parisians would actually ever see this drag spare the occasional business man buying his mistress a gift (and he would likely welcome the chaotic windows diverting attention from his tawdry purchases). Parisians are renowned for their impressive window dressing skills, but the hot mess going down along Blvd Haussmann is an affront to Parisian aesthetics and the entire holiday spirit in general. All I can say is this holiday season avoid Nightmare on Haussmann Street and the bone chilling hollow stares of an animatronic marionette or twenty.