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 Sister Showed Up After 15 Years of Silence, Begging for Help, but Her Visit Shattered My Family — Story of the Day
Fifteen years of marriage felt unshakable—until the night my estranged sister, Megan, showed up at my door with nothing but a suitcase and a storm of secrets. What began as an unexpected reunion unraveled into betrayal, lies, and truths I never imagined. Because of that night, my world changed forever.
My husband, Michael, and I sat together in the kitchen, the soft glow of candlelight creating a romantic atmosphere. We were celebrating our 15th wedding anniversary, and I felt special wearing the exquisite earrings Michael had given me earlier.
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Their delicate sparkle caught my eye as I glanced at their reflection in my wine glass.
Everything about the moment felt warm and perfect, a quiet escape from life’s usual worries.
Michael lifted his glass with a smile. “Here’s to us,” he said, his voice warm. “To fifteen years of marriage, to love, and to sticking together through all the challenges.”
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We clinked glasses, but my chest tightened. I understood what he meant by challenges.
He was thinking of the heartbreak we had endured, the years of trying for a child, only to discover Michael was infertile.
A sudden knock broke the silence. I frowned. “Who would show up at this hour?” I asked.
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Michael sighed. “If it’s Tom, tell him I’m not here.” I knew why—he still hadn’t returned Tom’s hammer.
I laughed, shaking my head, and went to answer the door. But as I opened it, my breath caught.
My heart seemed to stop. Standing there was someone I hadn’t seen in fifteen years.
“Megan…” I whispered, staring at her in disbelief.
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“Hi, sis,” she replied softly, her face pale and tired.
“What… what are you doing here?” I managed to ask, stepping aside to let her in. She dragged a small suitcase behind her, the wheels scraping against the floor.
“I… I left Henry,” she said, her voice trembling. Her eyes filled with tears as she struggled to speak. “I didn’t know where else to go. I have no one left. But if you don’t want me here, I’ll understand.”
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Before she could say more, I pulled her into a hug. I hadn’t seen my younger sister in 15 years.
The years, the distance, the reason for her leaving—all of it faded as I held her tightly. She hugged me back, her body shaking as she sobbed into my shoulder.
“Where’s your son?” I asked after a moment, stepping back to look at her. Megan had moved to another state when she got pregnant, and I hadn’t heard from her since.
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“She’s a girl. Rose,” Megan said, wiping her eyes. “She’s at a camp right now. I didn’t want to involve her in all this yet.”
I nodded, unsure what to say.
Just then, Michael’s voice called from the kitchen. “Did you tell Tom I wasn’t here, and he stormed off in a huff?” He walked into the room, holding his glass. When his eyes landed on Megan, he froze.
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“Hi, Michael,” Megan said, her voice sharp and cold.
Michael’s face tightened. “Hello,” he muttered before turning and walking out of the room without another word.
“Don’t mind him,” I said quickly, trying to ease the tension. “You know how he is.”
“Unfortunately, I do,” Megan replied, her tone colder than before.
Megan and I sat at the kitchen table while I prepared us some tea. The quiet clinking of the cups felt heavy, like the calm before a storm.
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Once we sat down, I looked at her and asked softly, “What happened with Henry?”
She sighed, her shoulders slumping as if the weight of her story had been crushing her. “It was awful from the start—well, not right away,” she said. “After Rose was born, things seemed okay for a little while. I thought we could make it work.”
Her face tightened. “But then Henry changed. He became cruel, distant. He wouldn’t help with Rose. I spent everything I had on her because he wouldn’t give me a dime.”
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I frowned. “You mean he refused to support his own child?”
Megan nodded. “When I demanded support, he made everything worse. He yelled, threatened… it was unbearable.” Her hands trembled as she spoke, and I felt my chest tighten.
Megan avoided giving too many details about Henry, but her broken tone and tired eyes told me enough.
“Why didn’t you call me?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Why go through all of that alone? I would’ve been there for you.”
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She looked away, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “Helen, stop. We both know why. After what I did… you wouldn’t have forgiven me. Not that easily.”
I shook my head, frustrated and hurt. “You’re my sister. I would’ve helped you, no matter what. But you blocked my number. You didn’t even tell me how to find you. You cut me off completely.”
“I was young,” she said, her voice breaking. “I was stupid and guilty. I thought you hated me.”
I sighed and pulled her into a hug. “I never hated you,” I whispered.
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After a while, I sent Megan to the guest room to rest. I made my way to the bedroom, where Michael lay on the bed with his back to the door. I recognized this posture. He only did that when he was upset.
“Why are you sulking?” I asked.
“You know why,” he muttered without turning to face me.
“Is it because of Megan?” I pressed.
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Michael sat up suddenly, his face tight with anger. “Do you not remember how she left, Helen? She stole from you! She took your things, blocked your number, and vanished!”
“I know,” I said quietly. “But it’s been so many years.”
“She took your wedding ring!” he snapped. “And other jewelry. How can you forget that?”
“Maybe she’s changed,” I said.
“People don’t change,” he said, lying back down and turning away from me again. His voice was flat, final, as if no other possibility could exist.
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Megan stayed with us for a few days. Each day, Michael’s irritation seemed to grow.
He avoided Megan completely, barely looking at her or speaking a single word. Then, one morning, I went to grab my earrings—the ones Michael gave me for our anniversary—and they were gone.
My heart sank as I searched the jewelry box again, hoping I had overlooked them, but they weren’t there.
“Michael, have you seen my earrings?” I asked, already feeling uneasy.
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“No,” he said, his voice sharp, “but I have a pretty good idea where they are.”
“Stop it. She wouldn’t do something like that,” I said, trying to defend Megan.
“Fool me once…” he muttered, letting the unfinished sentence hang in the air.
“I’ll talk to her,” I said firmly. I headed toward the guest room, hearing Michael’s footsteps close behind me.
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I knocked softly and waited until Megan called out, “Come in.” Pushing the door open, I stepped inside. “Have you seen my earrings?” I asked.
“I don’t even know what they look like,” Megan said.
“Then you won’t mind if I check around?” I asked.
“Go ahead,” Megan said, but then added, her tone sharp, “Wait. Do you think I took them?”
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“I’m just trying to find them,” I replied, feeling a knot of guilt in my chest.
“Where else would they be?” Michael said from the doorway. “It’s not the first time you’ve stolen.”
Megan’s head snapped toward him, her eyes flashing with anger.
I carefully searched through Megan’s things, feeling both tense and guilty. When I found nothing, I let out a quiet breath of relief.
Then my eyes landed on a book with a thick bookmark sticking out. Something about it caught my attention. I opened it, and there they were—my earrings.
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“Megan…” I said, holding them up.
Her face twisted with shock. “I swear, I don’t know how they got there!” she said.
Michael stood behind me, his expression smug. “Maybe you didn’t take anything last time, either?”
Megan’s eyes burned with fury. Her hands balled into fists as she turned toward him. “Enough! I’ve kept quiet for 15 years, but I’m done. I’m telling her the truth!”
Michael’s face changed. For the first time, he looked truly afraid.
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“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Do you know who Rose’s real father is?” Megan spat. “Michael!”
“What?” I said, my voice rising. “That’s impossible. Michael can’t have children. Why are you lying?”
“He can,” Megan said sharply. “He just didn’t want to. That’s why he got rid of me when I told him I was pregnant.”
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“Megan, stop,” I said. “Just admit you took the earrings. There’s no need for this.”
“I’m not lying!” Megan shouted. “We slept together. Once. We were drunk. When I told him I was pregnant, he wanted me to get rid of the baby. When I refused, he gave me your jewelry and told me to disappear.”
Tears filled my eyes as I turned to Michael. “Michael? Is any of this true? Do you have anything to say?” I asked.
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He stayed silent, his head bowed.
Megan’s voice broke as she continued. “He pushed me to be with Henry. He wanted me gone. I’ve suffered for all these years because of him!”
Tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t believe the man I had trusted for so many years, my husband, had done something so cruel.
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“We got married right after Megan left,” I said, my voice breaking. “How could you lie to me for so long? How could you keep this from me?”
Michael’s face twisted, and his voice shook. “And you believe her? After everything? You’re taking her word over mine?”
“I believed you for too long,” I said, anger rising in my chest. “You made me think you were infertile. You knew how much I wanted children, and you married me anyway. You lied to me about everything!”
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“He got a vasectomy right after he found out I was pregnant,” Megan added quietly, her words hitting me like another blow.
Michael opened his mouth, trying to speak, but I cut him off. “Leave,” I said, my voice firm.
“But—” he began, his tone desperate.
“Get. Out,” I said again, my voice shaking but steady.
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He stared at me for a long moment, then sighed and walked out. The slam of the front door echoed through the house.
I collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Megan knelt beside me and wrapped her arms around me, holding me tightly.
“I’m sorry,” I said between sobs. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you as an older sister. I should have protected you.”
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“And I’m sorry for staying silent,” Megan replied softly.
I wiped my tears and looked at her. “We’ll bring Rose here. You’ll stay with me. We’ll figure it out together.”
Megan nodded, and we stayed there, holding each other. But I felt relief. The truth was finally out.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Caught in a snowstorm, Elina and her mother-in-law, Laura, find themselves on a journey fraught with tension and unresolved grievances. But, as the storm grows more dangerous, an unexpected event forces them to confront their differences in a way that will change their relationship forever. Read the full story here.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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