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When summer finally arrives, there are two kinds of Parisians : those who invite others to visit their country homes, and those who are invited. Falling into the latter category means that I usually spend time every summer bouncing from one country home to the next, a French version of sofa surfing. But the term “country home” can seem ridiculously inappropriate – especially when I discovered just what one – or a few – might look like.
If you’ve ever spent any time in front of a Parisian news kiosk, you’ve no doubt run across lots of women’s magazines similar to the ones you’d see anywhere else, like Elle or Cosmopolitan. More contemporary magazines, like Causette or Bridget, have shaken up the traditional press by providing a feminist point of view. And then you’ve got the old stalwarts, like Femme Actuelle – or Modern Woman – which, in the end, isn’t really very modern at all.