Robe en Jean
I just can’t resist them, and clearly the French can’t either. One of those catalogues full of things you never knew existed, and certainly never wanted - - but hey, look! A hot water bottle that heats up in the microwave, I could just do with one, how have I managed without one all my life? - - Luckily reason usually kicks in before I get as far as my credit card number, and I think hey! wait a minute! the reason you’ve never wanted one before is because you DON’T NEED ONE! PUT THE CATALOGUE DOWN NOW!
Monsieur and Madame, looking at this French catalogue, are also tempted. “Meuble sur roulettes” they think, wow, that’d come in handy, a piece of furniture on wheels. The catalogue, clearly wary of being sued, doesn’t even try to identify what kind of furniture it might be. But it’s en polypropylène with a surface facilement lavable – whoopee!
And poor Monsieur – suddenly he realises how his feet have suffered in all his years of cycling. How has he managed without these socquettes cycliste, a snip at two euros 99, with protection for the ankles and a band to maintain circulation and a reinforced heel?
But Madame isn’t listening: her eye has been caught by the Pyjashort en satin, - pyjamas with a top and shorts, in case you hadn’t guessed - in a subtle shade of bright orange and only seven euros 99.
Pyjashort? What kind of word is that? Where are the Academie-Francaise word police when you need them?
But then I saw that, worse still, a denim dress is described as a Robe en jean. (9 euros 99, silhouette parfait, liberte de mouvements in case you’re keen)
ROBE EN JEAN? As John pointed out in a comment on my piece about postrophes earlier this week, denim comes from de Nîmes, coton de Nîmes, all romantic and French-sounding. Which Robe en jean just isn’t. I’m putting this catalogue in the bin. Now.
Well, as soon as I’ve looked at the rest of it.
Monsieur and Madame, looking at this French catalogue, are also tempted. “Meuble sur roulettes” they think, wow, that’d come in handy, a piece of furniture on wheels. The catalogue, clearly wary of being sued, doesn’t even try to identify what kind of furniture it might be. But it’s en polypropylène with a surface facilement lavable – whoopee!
And poor Monsieur – suddenly he realises how his feet have suffered in all his years of cycling. How has he managed without these socquettes cycliste, a snip at two euros 99, with protection for the ankles and a band to maintain circulation and a reinforced heel?
But Madame isn’t listening: her eye has been caught by the Pyjashort en satin, - pyjamas with a top and shorts, in case you hadn’t guessed - in a subtle shade of bright orange and only seven euros 99.
Pyjashort? What kind of word is that? Where are the Academie-Francaise word police when you need them?
But then I saw that, worse still, a denim dress is described as a Robe en jean. (9 euros 99, silhouette parfait, liberte de mouvements in case you’re keen)
ROBE EN JEAN? As John pointed out in a comment on my piece about postrophes earlier this week, denim comes from de Nîmes, coton de Nîmes, all romantic and French-sounding. Which Robe en jean just isn’t. I’m putting this catalogue in the bin. Now.
Well, as soon as I’ve looked at the rest of it.
posted by Daphne at 9:31 am
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home