Je ne sais quoi
French Interiors
“I have no recipe for how to combine things. But you must be sincere. And if you are, strangely, it will succeed.” — Andrée Putman
Over the years there have in the worlds of fashion and beauty been multiple articles on French style, what it is, how it’s defined, what to buy etc. etc., so as to achieve that certain savoir faire and nonchalant elegance associated with French, and in particular, Parisian women. Very basically, French style is considered, pared back, chic and all about the basics. Simplicity is, apparently, key, as French women are never overdone or overdressed; instead, French style is all about effortless, classic clothes (without following fashion trends), often worn with one solid statement piece, for e.g. an item of jewellery, a scarf or pair of shoes. “Parisian women have a uniform and they rarely steer away from that,” explains Morgane Sezalory, founder of French fashion label Sezane. “It’s not very creative and French women spend as much time getting ready as British or American women — they just don’t tell you. It’s all very controlled. British and Americans are more relaxed with themselves and often more creative.” Equally, if one looks to the opposite sex, Parisian men aren’t exactly known for wearing shouty logos or ostentatious colors — sticking to black, navy and white — and will often wear inexpensive items alongside their biggest sartorial investments; for instance a bespoke tailored suit worn with a cheap plastic Swatch watch. As for the beret, despite being as quintessentially French as Camembert or Romanée-Conti, it’s more suited to shepherds in the French Resistance, and according to Chanel model and muse Ines de La Fressange (b. 1957) has “no business adorning the head of any cool, stylish Parisian man today”. The French have a particular way with indefinable qualities, they’ve even gone so far as to define it: je ne sais quoi. Indeed somewhat paradoxically, French style is often defined less by what it is than what it isn’t — which is precisely why it can be so hard to copy, or otherwise reproduce or emulate. Interestingly there are many parallels between the French attitude to personal style and their interiors, with many of the same rules applicable.
Château de Fabrègues, the home of of French interior architect Pierre Yovanovitch, a “Snowflake” chandelier by Paavo Tynell hangs above the dining table, photograph by Jérôme Galland
The home of Caroline Sarkozy and Jacques Lacoste, in the sitting room a ceramic fireplace by French artist Emmanuel Boos and a pair of Giacometti armchairs
If one looks at the work of twentieth century French designers, architects and makers for e.g., there is a clear reverence for and appreciation of the past, whilst at the same time, a wholehearted embrace of innovation, modernity and advances in technology. This can be seen to great effect in the work of Jules Leleu (1883-1961) who’s forms, materials and techniques — not to mention his design process — recall the delicate Régence and neoclassical styles of the eighteenth century, but incorporate new materials, like fiberglass, plastic, aluminium and steel. Equally French architect and designer Pierre Chareau (1883-1950) is internationally recognised as one of the first truly modern architects. His extraordinary Maison de Verre (or “Glass House”) completed in 1932, seamlessly straddles the divide between tradition and modernity, perfectly epitomising the fundamental principles of his work: formal invention, the use of the finest materials, transformable spaces and furniture created by the very best artisans. French furniture makers, unlike the Germans, were not interested in mass-production; thus, the avant-garde designs of Le Corbusier (1887-1965), Charlotte Perriand (1903-1999) and Pierre Jeanneret (1896-1967), not to mention Chareau’s own metal furniture, although less expensive than that of for e.g. Émile-Jacques Ruhlmann (1879-1933), which were often veneered in precious woods and ivory, remained luxurious, tied to the high-quality, labor-intensive craftsmanship that had set French decorative arts apart since the eighteenth century. To this end, at Maison de Verre, the sofas have tapestry seats designed by artist Jean Lurçat (1892-1966), likely executed by one of the storied French tapestry manufacturers such as Aubusson or Gobelins: “The very idea of uniformity is odious to me,” Chareau wrote. “One may desire its advent, but submitting to its tyranny is repugnant.”
The home French architect Charles Zana, an eighteenth century hotel particulier, Paris, in the dining room a pair of cane armchairs by Pierre Jeanneret
Similarly in terms of twenty-first century interiors, there are still numerous designers who employ the same principles, i.e. incorporating unusual materials and techniques, whilst maintaining an overall pared back elegance; nothing shouts, nothing screams and yet there are subtle, sometimes imperceptible details that elevate the overall ensemble into something entirely out of the ordinary. The work of Caroline Sarkozy and Laurent Bourgois of CSLB studio is perfectly demonstrative of this nuanced approach to design; in the Paris apartment of Sarkozy (half-sister of former French president Nicolas) and gallerist Jacques Lacoste for e.g. an elaborate mantelpiece of glazed ceramic blocks, created by French artist Emmanuel Boos, is offset by plain white walls, simple window treatments and a muted palette of greys and creams. There is plenty of interest in the furnishings — not least a Jean Royère (1902-1981) Ours Polaire sofa and a pair of Têtes de Lionnes armchairs by Diego Giacometti (1902-1985) — yet the overall aesthetic is calm, elegant and understated. The sprawling seventeenth century Château de Fabrègues, famed country retreat of French interior architect Pierre Yovanovitch (b. 1965), again manifests a unique Gaelic nonchalance; its interiors, a mixture of mid-century furniture, Fortuny fabrics and the designer’s own creations — remain contemporary, avoiding plagiarism and historical reconstruction, yet, at the same time, preserve, and even amplify, the château’s inherent historical charm (Interesting Yovanovitch found his way to design via high-end fashion, starting his career in the early 1990s working with Pierre Cardin (1922-2020) on menswear). In a similar way to Sarkozy and Bourgois, Yovanovitch’s work is resolutely contemporary, blending site-specific art and bespoke and vintage furniture — speaking of what might be described as a new French design aesthetic, defined not by ornate adornment, but by understated luxury. The work of architect Charles Zana (b. 1960) is also emblematic of the contemporary approach to classic French style — often employing more traditional architectural detailing, inspired by eighteenth century French models, whilst using furnishings that are unmistakably modern; mixing twentieth century classics by the likes of Roger Tallon (1929-2011) and Perriand (1903-1999), with commissions from such celebrated contemporary designers as Eric Schmitt (b. 1959) and Johanna Grawunder (b. 1961).
An apartment in the seventeenth arrondissement of Paris, designed by Fabrizio Casiraghi, in the drawing room a mixture of antiques and mid-century furnishings
Despite its elusive nature, channelling Le Parisien (that being the style, and not the ham baguette) through your interior choices is of course entirely possible; as with fashion, start with the staples and don’t scrimp on key pieces — it’s far better to think about exactly what you need (sketching a furniture layout if necessary), and then over time, build up a capsule collection of classic, timeless furnishings, with the mind-set that you’ll be keeping them for the long-term. For e.g. it’s a good idea to invest in quality sofa’s and armchairs as they’re used every single day, and ergo receive the most wear — they can easily be reupholstered as and when they start to look shabby, whereas an Ikea Ektorp will inevitably be skipped. The interest in the room can come from art and accessories, such as cushions or throws, things that appeal to you personally, however quirky (Yovanovitch for e.g. has a passion for owl’s and they appear, often in the form of ceramics, in almost every room at Fabrègues). Another French rule of style, again, as applicable to fashion as it is to interiors, is to embrace imperfections and work with what you’ve got. When conjuring up an image of the archetypical Parisian apartment, one envisages a classical, nineteenth century Haussmanian building, with cavernous ceilings, panelling, herringbone floors and marble fireplaces aplenty; rooms with great bones look good in almost anything, and whilst not every space can be picture perfect, it can certainly have charm. A simple way of achieving this is to highlight what’s special, whether that be ceiling height, view or architectural features; the French know that an elegant interior might often entail an item that feels off, or an objet or artwork that flirts with the realms of bad taste. In a similar vein, resist the urge to refinish family heirlooms, antiques or vintage pieces, as not everything in your home needs to be shiny and new (on that note, don’t worry about hiding every visible computer cable or electrical wire). Finally, don’t ever sacrifice beauty for comfort; a true Parisian will never give into the idea that comfort alone is in itself significant a virtue to justify an item of furniture that has no other redeeming feature than utility. Bon courage!