On politics, curiosity, and the pleasure of getting to know someone.
Before you invite me to dinner, or suggest we disappear together for a few days, you might reasonably want to know who you’ll be spending all that time with. I can help with that. Choosing what to wear may take me a little longer..
Photographs are rather good at making introductions, but considerably less good at telling stories. So here's one you probably wouldn't guess from mine.
I've always found it a little ironic that, having studied politics and once imagined making a career out of it, I still hesitate to talk about it openly here. Not because I'm short of opinions (my friends would find that hilarious), but because nuance doesn't always survive the internet. There's a fine line between being honest about what you believe and feeling obliged to say what everyone wants to hear, and I've never been particularly interested in being someone I'm not.
I much prefer conversations where people can speak freely, disagree, ask questions, and still genuinely enjoy each other’s company. I’ve always thought there was something attractive about someone who can challenge an idea without making it personal, and I’ve changed my mind about enough things over the years to know that being certain doesn’t necessarily mean being right.
Perhaps that explains why, while most of Paris was asleep during the recent American elections, I was still awake at four in the morning, refreshing the results. I've been following American elections since 2008, and I still remember the first ones I watched, back when I was at school, probably far too invested in political events happening on the other side of the Atlantic for someone my age.
Some things never change.
These days, whenever something significant happens politically anywhere in the world, I can almost guarantee that one of my friends will call to ask me what's going on. I've somehow become their unofficial political correspondent. Whether they want a quick explanation or an enthusiastic twenty minute analysis is another question entirely.
I've always been fascinated by politics, but perhaps even more by the people behind it. What makes someone believe so strongly in something? What changes their mind? How can two people look at the very same situation and come away with completely different conclusions? I suppose I've always been curious about the way people think.
Growing up, I was encouraged to do something significant with my life, and I've always expected a lot of myself. I like doing things properly, and when something interests me, I tend to get very invested. For a long time, I wanted to go into politics. President, ideally. Becoming a prosecutor was my backup plan. (nothing too demanding, then.)
With people in my family working in law and politics, neither ambition felt particularly far-fetched to me. I joined the debate club, went on to study political science, and developed a genuine love for argument, language and the art of persuasion. I enjoyed being challenged just as much as defending my own ideas. There's something quite humbling about realising that an argument you've held for years might not survive a single good question.
I still remember learning about the Sophists in philosophy class. The idea that words alone could influence someone's perspective fascinated me, and it still does! I still happily spend the occasional evening watching old French political debates, appreciating a particularly clever reply or a beautifully constructed argument.
Though I've learned that eloquence and sincerity don't always come together. I admire people who mean what they say, and even more those who follow through. For someone who once imagined her future in politics or a courtroom, life took a rather unexpected direction. Modelling came along, and remains part of my life. (that's a story for another day)
And then there was ayah
I sometimes think the things we wanted to become when we were younger tell us something about who we are, even when life takes us somewhere entirely different. I may no longer be pursuing the career I once imagined, and I certainly don’t reach for my Dalloz as often as I used to, but I haven't lost the curiosity that made me want it in the first place.
Perhaps that's one of my favourite things about what I do. The opportunity to meet people I might never otherwise have crossed paths with, people with different experiences, perspectives and stories to tell. I find people endlessly interesting, particularly those who've lived lives very different from mine. I love hearing how someone ended up where they are, the decisions they made along the way, the things they regret and the things they'd happily do all over again. There is so much you can learn about the world simply by being interested in the person sitting across from you. For me, that's something you can only really appreciate when you give yourselves enough time.
I particularly love that moment when a conversation stops feeling like a first meeting. When the jokes become a little less careful, one subject leads unexpectedly to another, and neither of us is in any particular hurry to ask for the bill, it's why I've always had a soft spot for longer dates. Dinner is lovely (of course!) but so is having the freedom to let an evening unfold naturally. Sometimes the best part of getting to know someone happens long after the introductions are over..
Of course, you don't need to arrive prepared to discuss international relations. Although if you happen to have an interesting opinion, I'm all ears. And if we disagree? Even better. A little intellectual chemistry never hurt anyone.
I suppose that's what I hope you'll take away from this little introduction. There's more to me than the photographs, the dresses and the places I dream of visiting. But we don't have to discover everything about each other here. Some stories are much nicer told over dinner and perhaps a few are worth saving for breakfast..
Do you have somewhere in mind?