Pour nos amis les British men...

What follows is not entirely fashion-related, but it has to be said, because anything that makes me doubt my fashion sense (no false humility) is a crime.

British men my friends, you piss me off!!!

You can be endearing, and humorous, and have some substance, but you have a major problem: you don't look at women in the street - or anywhere else for that matter- and I cannot begin to explain how much it frustrates me!

Six months after I moved to London, I went back to Paris for the Christmas holidays, and I was suprised to find that men were staring at me in the metro I took on my way home. After this little game was repeated over and over again and I started feeling down right paranoid about having a huge spot on my nose, a beautiful stranger flashed me a marvellous style, and I came aware that these men's looks were actually a compliment. And I suddenly realized how much I had missed this permanent flirting game French men keep on.

In London men ignore women in the street; if you are unfortunate enough to be crossing when a car arrives, they horn and accelerate instead of slowing down and giving way with a smile; in a club they prefer to dance in a gay-like male circle and avert their eyes if by miracle you catch them looking rather than coming over to introduce themselves. Unless of course they're in a pub, after the 15th post-work Friday pint and you find their eyes wandering intently in you decollete.

No wonder that English young women go to astouding lengths (literally... I am always amazed at the shortness of these frilly black skirts they wear on bare legs even in the heart of winter) to attract their attention!

So a little piece of advice for you, my dear men: we find your attention flattering, it's an aknowledgement of our sex-appeal, it makes us feel good about ourselves and warm inside, so why refuse yourselves this pleasure? Enjoy the view, and if a woman sees you watching her, smile: how could things possibly go wrong?