“A girl should be two things; who she wants and what she wants.” ~ Coco Chanel
Atlas, Ink and Espresso | August Feature
These women writers are from all walks of life; England, Australia and Canada. All people who have left their homeland for the dream of France.
And many of us have that dream. France can be seductive, from the sparkling Eiffel tower to a rural farmhouse off the coast of Normandy. She lures you in. And the idea of moving makes one dream of happily ever after (especially if twirling in a field of lavender while wearing your best dress). But. France is still a country, full of grit and dirt, confusion and frustration, and cultural differences.
You ever after may be waiting for you, but it will likely require more grit and determination than you originally anticipated. France will reshape you. The books below give you an open and honest window into the differences between cultures.
These are memoirs; messy, intimate, and full of charm. They’re for anyone who has ever flirted with the idea of starting over in France… or simply dreamed of it while sipping coffee in your own backyard.
1. The Secret Life of France by Lucy Wadham
A portrait of cultural collision
Lucy Wadham, an Englishwoman who married a Frenchman and raised children on French soil, offers a wry and unflinching look at the gaps between British and French sensibilities. This is not a light-hearted expat diary, rather it’s part memoir, part social critique, pulling back the curtain on French politics, sex, family, and feminism. It’s biting, intelligent, and full of that specific intimacy only a long and complicated love affair can bring.
☕ Best read with: A bitter espresso and something to underline with.
📍 Pairs well with: A long sit at Café de Flore, where contradictions feel at home.
2. Je T’aime, Me Neither by Lily Heise
A guide to dating—and misadventure—in Paris
Lily Heise writes like your cheekiest, most charming friend – if she happened to live in Montmartre and have a treasure trove of tales involving flirtation, faux pas, and Frenchmen. Je T’aime, Me Neither is pure delight: a romp through the messy intersections of romance and cultural confusion. But beneath the bubbly prose is a real affection for Paris, its quirks, and the lessons love, or the lack of it, can teach.
☕ Best read with: A sparkling kir royale and a view of the rooftops.
📍 Pairs well with: A stroll through Pigalle after midnight, wondering what might happen next.
3. Almost French by Sarah Turnbull
Becoming at home, one awkward moment at a time
An Australian journalist meets a Frenchman in Bucharest, moves to Paris on a whim, and finds herself adrift in a sea of rules, rituals, and social codes she doesn’t understand. Sarah Turnbull’s memoir is a beloved classic of expat literature, and for good reason. It’s observant, funny, and full of the slow evolution from outsider to presque Parisienne. Turnbull doesn’t romanticize the struggle, but she embraces the beauty that grows from it.
☕ Best read with: A café crème and a warm pain au chocolat.
📍 Pairs well with: A window seat in the Marais, watching Parisians glide past.
4. My Good Life in France by Janine Marsh
The rural dream, mud, chickens, and all
She went across the channel for a cheap bottle of wine and ended up buying a rundown farmhouse. This sounds like the beginning of a romance novel. And yet – this is Janine Marsh’s real life. Born and raised in England she eventually quit her job and moved to France with her husband. This memoir follows the trials and tribulations of life in rural France; from cultural differences to a building with no heat to the love and loss that comes with living the good life. Marsh is surrounded by a gaggle of strays animals and let’s be honest, she is living my rural farmhouse dreams.
Marsh also has a website: My Goodlife France, where you can peruse all things French.
☕ Best read with: A bowl-sized café au lait and a fire crackling nearby.
📍 Pairs well with: A shady courtyard in Provence, or a morning market in Normandy.
Final Sips
These books remind us that France is not just a place—it’s a transformation. Through the eyes of these women, we see its frustrations and flirtations, its elegance and absurdity. We feel the ache of wanting to belong, and the quiet triumph of slowly doing so.
If you’re longing for France—not just the postcard version, but the real, complicated, beautiful thing—these stories will feel like coming home.
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