Emily in Paris and the pop-culture mythologizing of Paris
On how we put Paris on a pedestal
I started the new Netflix show Emily in Paris on Friday night, and finished binging all 10 episodes by mid-afternoon on Saturday. If you follow me on Twitter or Instagram, you have probably seen some of my commentary on the show already, but let’s just say it’s so bad, it’s good. The general verdict everyone I’ve talked to and I have reached is that the show is terribly written and full of cliches and very cringe-y, but it’s also easy and fun and mindlessly pleasurable to watch. We could all use more of that in 2020, so here we are.
The show treats the city of Paris as a place that’s seemingly larger than life. “I feel like Nicole Kidman in Moulin Rouge!” Emily proclaims off a balcony on her first day in Paris. She describes Paris to her boyfriend back in Chicago as being “just like Ratatouille.” Emily and her friend Mindy (another American) talk about Paris as though magic might happen simply because they’re in Paris, versus literally anywhere else. Mindy tells Emily: “Paris is the most exciting city in the world, you never know what’s going to happen next!”
The show was created by Darren Star, whose name you probably recognize from the end credits of Sex and the City. SATC was another show that put Paris on a pedestal, that built up the idea of Paris as a magical, mythical city that would cure all your ills. Carrie Bradshaw spent what felt like half the series contemplating whether to follow different men to Paris, and eventually did follow one of them, only to realize that transferring her relationship to Paris wasn’t magically going to fix the problems in her relationship.
It’s true: Paris is a wonderful city. I loved it on my first visit there five years ago, and Renan and I had planned to go back for a second visit this year, before the pandemic came along and “travel” became a concept of the past. (Here’s where I also tell you that on that first visit to Paris, Renan and I got engaged. No, not at the Eiffel Tower.)
I find it interesting how pop culture has always portrayed Paris as almost a supernatural place, where the simple act of just being in Paris will make everything magically work out. Emily in Paris serves that up in spades. Every man Emily comes into contact with falls for her. She wears heels on cobblestones and never trips (impossible!). She doesn’t speak any French, and aside from one class, doesn’t ever seem to bother to learn, and then wonders why the French don’t warm up to her. Every client is charmed by her social media ideas, even though her ideas sound bland and unoriginal, like Darren Star’s impression of how he thinks millennials talk about social media. But because it’s Paris, everything always works out in her favor, like Magical Paris Dust is sprinkled all over everything in her life.
New York is also portrayed as mythical and magical in pop culture. The “It’s Paris, you never know what will happen next!” line is familiar, because we’ve heard people say it in movies and shows about New York, too. (Just look at The Bold Type.) I’m a champion of cities, of course, and if you’re reading this you probably already know how much I love living in New York. But cities are imperfect; you love them for what they are, and you learn to take the good with the bad. If you’re really invested in your city and your community, you try to help make it better. (Anyone who lives in New York knows that New York has lots of things that need improving.)
Unfortunately, 2020 has shown us that our problems can’t simply be solved by a change of scenery. Many of us won’t travel because it’s not safe to get on planes or be in an airport, but also because many of these magical destinations have problems of their own, too. Emily in Paris operates in a pre-2020 reality where an American could pick up everything and take a little jaunt across the Atlantic Ocean, and not be treated like a potential super-spreader upon arrival.
Living in one of these “magical” cities, I know that things won’t go back to normal without hard work and sacrifice. That said, on the right night, New York can still feel magical. I went out for dinner and drinks near my apartment this weekend, on one of the Brooklyn streets that was shut down to cars to allow more space for outdoor dining. People were having picnics in the street and walking around with to-go cocktails and playing music. It was the closest I’ve felt to normal in months.
Is Emily in Paris smart? Insightful? Sharp? Absolutely not. Is it enjoyable? Yes, it is. The episodes are short and you can definitely multitask while you watch. It’s like eating cotton candy: sweet, empty, hollow and ultimately unsatisfying, but you’ll still devour the whole thing in one sitting.
What I’m reading
Why Americans have turned to nesting, The Atlantic.
The inside story of MacKenzie Scott, the mysterious 60-billion-dollar woman, Marker/Medium.
How Charli D’Amelio became the face of TikTok, The New Yorker. If you, like me, have struggled to understand all the hype around Charli D’Amelio, this is a good read.
In a world gone mad, paper planners offer order and delight, Wired. A fascinating deep dive into the planner community on Youtube and Instagram.
Barefoot in quarantine, The Cut. A profile of Ina Garten in the context of 2020, as her new cookbook release approaches.
Kamala Harris and the double bind of racism and sexism, New York Times.
The growing appeal of desserts that are “not too sweet,”Vice.
BLTs should be a breakfast food, Eater. Endorse! I love ordering a BLT at a diner even if it’s breakfast time.
What I’m cooking
This week I made this Za’atar roasted fish, BLT tacos, harissa chicken with potatoes and leeks, and creamy spinach and tomato pasta.
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