I have read my share of cliché-ridden articles about Parisian women, but I was surprised to find one in the New York Times. French women, the paper of record has discovered, age gracefully. Except, of course, when they don’t (Brigitte Bardot, Socialist party honcho Martine Aubry). How do they look so chic after 40? Well, they wear high heels on cobblestone streets, visit the hairdresser every few weeks, and of course, stay thin. Really? Writer Ann M. Morrison must not have descended in to a subway lately. The Paris Blog would like to announce that the City of Light is also peopled by chubby Frenchies who wear the same jeans and cheap Bata flats every day. Drugstore creams do not melt cellulite; I have yet to meet one Francaise who regularly visits a facialist. It’s too bad the article doesn’t delve into what I believe is the real secret to French women’s allure: they don’t buy into the media-fueled obsession with youth and porn-star beauty ideals. They are aware that most men aren’t into those esthetics, either. That realness–not being at war with their bodies– translates into the je ne sais quoi of inside-out beauty. Spend five minutes at a wine bar with Parisienne and you will in fact hear the same concerns about aging that you’d hear in the US. Or anywhere. The difference is that the French woman will quickly change the subject after toasting the fact that wine—in moderation!—is good for your health.