“it’s not that deep! or is it…?”
Is "demureness" the new opium of womankind, or is it simply a TikTok trend that aims to achieve what monotheism never could—control over women's bodies? It's worth pondering whether this revival of demure behaviour is a genuine call for basic human decency and a return to elegance, as suggested by one of my favourite lifestyle columnists, Jo Ellison, in this weekend's issue of the FT Weekend.
The idea of demureness as "chic" raises another question: Can men embody this quality as well? The short answer is that it's not even a consideration. Men aren't asked to ponder such things any more than they're asked to obsess over skincare routines or whether to paint their nails brat green or demure pink. Barack Obama famously wore the same coloured tie everyday to avoid wasting mental energy on trivial matters—no wonder early feminist icons like Weil, Lagarde, and Merkel opted for low-maintenance, boyish haircuts.
Freed from the social expectation to please anyone with their appearance, men can supposedly channel their energies into more "important" pursuits like quantum physics, wealth management, or monumental painting. This societal structure then conveniently allows them to claim gender superiority.
French women are often perceived to be anything but demure - there is no direct translation for "demure." The closest equivalents are "docile," "obedient," or "shy," terms that carry their own semantic warnings. This linguistic gap highlights the complexity of the concept itself. Personally, I've never aspired to be labelled as "chic" or "elegant." My goals have always been to be smart, kind, successful, and perhaps even "hot" by certain standards—though not primarily for the male gaze. The only opinion I've ever truly cared about is my own, underpinned by facts and results.
As a mother of two girls, particularly while breastfeeding, I've encountered societal judgments that are far from demure. Being shamed for breastfeeding in public or at work—by both women and men—has forced me to reconsider what is socially acceptable, through the lens of health and well-being. This experience has led me to wish for more demureness, not as a matter of chicness, but as a call for altruism, civility, and better manners. These qualities, I believe, go much deeper than appearances.
However, women should also realise that if power is the goal, focusing on nail polish shades or hairstyles might not be the most effective use of energy. While it's important to present the best version of oneself in both personal and professional settings, those aiming for the top should perhaps limit the time spent on such considerations—unless, of course, it's part of their job.
To conclude, as Elizabeth Badinter suggests in her latest essay, "Encore un effort Messieurs," this call for greater effort applies to women as well. And her inclusion of women in the title is far from a mere act of chivalry.