We have always felt threatened by our French counterparts, and with good reason. They seem so effortlessly chic.

When I first moved to France in 2000, I was so intimidated by the elegant Frenchwomen with their self-denying habits (‘elegance is refusal’, opined Coco Chanel, a woman who never had to brush eclair crumbs from her eponymous suit), that I often felt like strangling them with their perfectly tied Hermès scarves.

As I soon discovered, it is very time-consuming, not to mention costly, to look this good tout le temps.

And therein lies the difference between us: the French believe this is a price worth paying – that denying yourself life’s pleasures, undergoing painful beauty procedures, and ensuring you’re still attractive, not just to your husband but to all men, is a woman’s privilege. While we, on the whole, do not.

You might easily argue that the British attitude is best, that life is for getting out there and having fun, not for spending hours navel-gazing. And yet, although I sometimes yearn for British overindulgence and (let’s be honest) laziness, I have learnt to admire the French woman’s age-defying dedication, and her sheer honesty.

Ask a French woman what she really thinks of us Brits and she will answer quite openly, some might say brutally, as these women reveal…

Danielle Barbereau, 58, moved to the UK in 1980 after studying English in France. She is a relationship counsellor and lives in Sheffield. She has been divorced for 20 years and has two daughters aged 22 and 31.

The one thing that sets French women apart from British ones is the understanding that a good relationship – and great sex – are the secrets to true beauty.

It has nothing to do with the right shoes, perfect hair or immaculate make-up. It comes from the inside. I’ve recently fallen in love again and my friends tell me my skin and eyes are glowing. But I am not surprised.

In France we are very comfortable with love and sex. Walk around Paris and you will see couples of all ages kissing and flirting. We know it’s good for us, whereas British women – and men – still don’t celebrate it in the same way.

British women seem more prone to complaining about their relationships instead of focusing on what is good about their partner.

Even within long-term relationships, French women know love is as vital to the way they look as it is to their happiness, so looking after a man is a skill we are taught by our mothers from a young age.

I don’t mean doing his washing. I mean understanding that offering him support, love and kindness means he will love you even more – and you’ll be happier as a result.

Despite the rumours that affairs are rife within French marriages, my experiences as a relationships counsellor tell me otherwise. Maybe they are tolerated in the upper echelons of French society, but it really isn’t the norm among the middle classes.

French women are hurt by infidelity just as much as British women are. I think the cliche stems from the Fifties when women were dependent on their husbands and were intent on keeping them no matter what he did.

But attitudes have changed and French women now have more confidence and self-esteem, and expect their men to woo them, too. Although we all need our own interests so as not to suffocate one another, in France women don’t really go out with their friends in large groups for drinks – we tend to socialise in couples.

French women are never sluttish. They look after and respect their bodies, but understand that showing them off is not alluring. I also wish British women would adopt the French attitude to grooming: it’s a necessity, not a luxury – they are worth it.

I have my nails done and my hair blow-dried once a week. It means I can throw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and still look stylish. If you are well groomed you can get away with being casual.

Even dressed up, you won’t see a French woman wearing lots of make-up, or a pair of high heels she can’t walk in.

We don’t focus on our flaws the way British women do, and would never discuss them with a man – why would you want to draw his attention to your cellulite, saggy arms or other insecurities?

Although French women rarely let themselves go, neither do we see the point in pretending to be 30 when you’re 60. I find the idea of having plastic surgery baffling.

French women embrace ageing – look at how beautiful Catherine Deneuve is in her 70s. We are confident and have a more relaxed attitude to getting older, so we radiate inner beauty, which even young French men find alluring.

It’s sad that so many of my British friends report feeling invisible as they age. If only they could embrace their maturity and realise that with age should come joie de vivre and confidence — what is known in France as un certain charme.

Muriel Demarcus, 43, grew up in the south of France, but moved to the UK for work 13 years ago. She lives in West London with her 44-year-old husband, a business manager, and two daughters, 16-year-old Agie and 11-year-old Audrey.

When I’m back in France, in Paris or my native Provence, I feel like a normal woman in her 40s – an engineer by training and the mother of two daughters. But here in London, where I have lived for more than a decade, I feel like a living, breathing goddess.

Why? At first it baffled me. Then I realised that as a Frenchwoman my standards are higher and my discipline stricter. I am not allowed to let myself go to the same extent British women so often do.

It’s a difficult truth to confront, but French women living in the UK do benefit from the comparison.

It is all an attitude of mind. I would no more wear a pair of tracksuit bottoms, for example, than I would eat a chocolate bar or a packet of crisps as a mid-morning snack (Frenchwomen do not snack).

Instead I buy Parisian undies from Princesse Tam Tam (princessetamtam.co.uk). In baking and in lingerie, the French have infinitely more sophisticated taste.

In Paris I feel fat. In London I feel skinny. It helps that we are not so politically correct. When we go to the doctor in France, they put us on the scales, and if we weigh too much, they are not afraid to tell us.

If you have just had a baby, they will cut you some slack and give you a few weeks to lose it – but not for much longer than that. In France, all women are given a state-funded course of post-birth physiotherapy, to repair the strength of crucial muscles and – importantly – to reclaim a flat tummy.

A friend of mine, two stone overweight a year after having a baby, was told by her doctor she looked ‘like a cow’. It was harsh, but it worked and she lost the extra rolls of fat.

This pressure to look and act in a feminine way is not always a blessing. If a Frenchwoman goes to work without make-up on, or wearing a pair of casual trousers rather than a formal skirt, people will comment. ‘What’s wrong with you today? Why are you letting yourself go?’

If you haven’t brushed your hair, colleagues are quite likely to gossip behind your back and wonder whether you’re depressed, since you look so sloppy. You are expected to look like a woman, but it is also quite subtle. Skirts should not be too short, or you will be accused of trying to dress like a teenager.

But that’s how we are brought up – with a sense of restraint and pride in all things.

And the British are undoubtedly less restrained than the French when it comes to one subject in particular: sex. Or at least talking about it.

British women talk about sex in one of two ways – either to lament the lack of it from overworked husbands or to wearily confess they’d rather get stuck into a good book.

But we French don’t talk like this. We would rather invest our time and energy into the marital bed. The less you talk, the more you do.

The subtler you are, the sexier. (This also applies to French underwear – always matching, always beautiful, as opposed to the British version, which looks as though it would go up in flames if you struck a match in the bedroom.)

Meanwhile, it’s assumed our husbands are all having affairs. Whenever anyone asks me if this is true, I smile enigmatically and shrug as though, yes, it might be. But of course it’s not. We keep them far too busy for other women.

It’s about self-control, not denial. When I have a breakfast meeting, I drink a coffee; here, everyone seems to wolf down pastries – even bacon sandwiches! Frenchwomen take the time for a proper meal at lunch – eating at the desk is frowned upon – but they will have fresh things, nothing processed.

The other day I saw some teenage girls buying chips for their lunch – and that was it. Never, ever, would a French girl do this.

Sometimes my style is flashy, but other times it’s understated. I don’t want to look like I’m 40, but I do dress younger than I am. People say ‘You can’t be 63!’ more in Britain than in France, where many women look fantastic well into their 80s.

I’ve noticed that women here don’t seem to have the same energy as French women do. I don’t particularly like being in my 60s but French women focus on making our good bits better and on enjoying life. I have some grey hair but have it dyed, and I’m not afraid to keep it longer as I think it suits me best.

British women seem to approach ageing differently to the French. They worry more about ageing, they slow down and talk themselves into being old before their time.

Still, most French women of my age will have spent a lifetime subconsciously ensuring they won’t be fat, grey or unfashionable by the time they reach their 60s.

We were taught by our mothers to be disciplined. So I will eat a baguette with butter in the morning if I want to, or try a new cake in my bakery or drink red wine. But then I will be careful for the rest of the day to balance it out.

Bibliography

More France Please, we’re British; Gibson Square 2004

Two Lipsticks and a Lover 2005; Gibson Square (hardback)

All You Need to be Impossibly French; (US version of above) Penguin 2006

Two Lipsticks and a Lover; Arrow Books (paperback) 2007

Ciao Bella Gibson Square; (hardback) 2006

Ciao Bella Gibson Square; (paperback) 2007

So Chic! (French version of Two Lipsticks) Leduc Editions 2008 (also translated into Chinese, Russian and Thai)

More, More France; Gibson Square 2009

To Hell in High Heels; Arrow Books 2009 (also translated into Polish)

The Viva Mayr Diet; Harper Collins 2009

Love in a Warm Climate; Gibson Square 2011

The Ex-Factor; Gibson Square 2013

Smart Women Don’t Get Wrinkles; Gibson Square 2016

The Arnolfini Marriage; Amazon Kindle December 2016

Smart Women Don’t Get Wrinkles (paperback); Gibson Square spring 2018

The Longest Night; Gibson Square spring 2019