Jane Birkin shimmying down the Cannes Film Festival’s red carpet with a basket bag in hand. A mini-short-clad Brigitte Bardot strolling through St. Tropez. Espadrilles scattered on yacht decks. A Jacquemus hat big enough to live under. While sporadically daydreaming about the French Riviera from my home in Los Angeles, as far away from Europe as I could possibly find myself, a phantasmagoria of these images spring to mind. But is this some kind of Instagram-fueled revisionist history?
After all, my own scattered experiences in the South of France don’t quite live up to said projections. They include: a night out in Nice, the bygone Fitzgerald haven that has since morphed into a breeding ground for all things silicone; standing in line for Jimmy’z in Monte Carlo while observing a sequence of Hervé Léger–clad women saunter in with chain-adorned promoters; a brief visit to Club 55 in St. Tropez, a showcase of wealth manifested through Royal Oak watches and rosé magnums.
As the world begins to reopen and we collectively watch the vaccinated and the fabulous descend on the French Riviera for the Cannes Film Festival, the question beckons. What really is Riviera style, and how do the chicest of them all—the Parisiennes—approach it?
As it turns out, I am not too far off in my initial observation. “The southeast region—not to be confused with the southwest and the surfer haven of Biarritz—is full of gorgeous local women who may be slightly less on the effortless spectrum than what you generally associate with a French woman,” says Pompom Paris designer Lola Rykiel, noting that, “a bit too much bling, suntan, and fake snakeskin” is far from an uncommon sight.
Writer and creative director Julia Reiss, who lives in Paris and frequents the South of France every summer, agrees that the style is definitely “louder.” “Parisians would probably call it vulgaire, but it’s not anything too pearl-clutching for an American,” she says. “Midriffs and tight silhouettes abound, dresses are much shorter, and there’s so much more color.” While she assumes some Parisians find it tacky (she was once advised to reserve her beloved leopard print for trips to the South), she points out that Paris-based brands like Jacquemus have constructed their whole iconography on archetypes of Riviera style. “Like most things Parisian, it’s a dichotomous, love-hate relationship.”