Never moan about ze mistress: How to survive as a French wife

When British writer SAMANTHA BRICK married her French husband Pascal last year after moving to the Lot Valley, near the Dordogne region in South-West France, she soon discovered that life for a French wife is very different to what we're used to in Britain. Here, she reveals her hilarious Ten Commandments for succeeding as a spouse across the Channel . . .



Perfect example: Carla Bruni knows how to keep her husband, the French President Nicolas Sarkozy, happy

1. YOUR HUSBAND WILL ALWAYS HAVE AN OPINION ON YOUR WEIGHT



My french husband knows what I weigh, will comment on the weight I put on (in front of friends and family, too) and will discuss my figure appreciatively (or not).



At first, I was insulted, embarrassed and mortified. Now I know it's just one of those French things - they do it out of love. Apparently.



Woe betide if your weight fluctuates.

Who needs scales (though we both use them constantly, at his insistence), when your husband will point weight gain out to you?



He inspects my bottom, stomach and thighs on a regular basis.

Pascal absolutely believes that my becoming a 'fat wife' would be grounds for divorce.

We are planning on starting a family and I have had to promise him I will drop the baby weight straight after giving birth.



There will be no moux ventre - soft tummy - for me after my baby has arrived.



2. IT'S 'INTERDIT' TO EAT BETWEEN MEALS



French wives never, ever eat between meals. Ever. This is difficult when you used to be a 4pm-Twix-in-the-afternoon girl.



But when you do sit down at a table to eat (which I do with my husband for breakfast, the mandatory two-hour lunch and then for a minimum three-course meal in the evening), you eat properly.

You take your time, you sit upright at the table and you don't do the English thing of holding your hands in your lap below the table between courses (old habits die hard - the French still think we might be hiding a weapon!).



You can have wine, indulge in cheese and a little fresh bread bought daily from the boulangerie.



You never eat potatoes, pasta or rice at the same time as your main course - somehow that's how you keep the weight off.



3. EXERCISE! EXERCISE! EXERCISE!



Get on your bike: French wives are expected to keep fit

Despite most French women claiming to walk everywhere to keep svelte, this simply isn't true.



Every French woman I know takes exercise seriously - if you look hard enough, you'll find equipment in their home.



And, believe me, it doesn't have dust on the handlebars or the ironing piled on the seat. The fat-buster of choice is the exercise bike and it is positioned prominently in every home.



My 68-year-old mother-in-law has one, as does my husband's grandmother, who is in her late 80s (in fact, you find them everywhere in her retirement home - even in the hallways - just in case the retirees fancy a go at being Lance Armstrong).



But here's why I take it seriously - they look at least 20 years younger than they are.



My husband bought me my bike for my birthday and put it in our living room. I have no choice but to use it daily - there is no excuse now for saddle bag thighs or a saggy tummy.



4. PRIVACY FOR YOUR BEAUTY RITUALS



There is a reason why - in most French homes - the lavatory will always be in a separate room and never in the same room as the bath.



My husband finds the idea of using the loo in the same room where his wife faire sa maquillage (does her make-up) abhorrent.



In France, there will never be the dilemma to use the loo in front of your beloved - it's simply never, ever done.



Beauty is taken seriously and I am expected to be perfectly groomed and made up daily.

A French wife would never understand the concept of mooching about in her PJs, make-up free for the morning with the weekend papers scattered everywhere. It ain't gonna happen.

5. NEVER, EVER GET DRUNK



You are expected to nurse a glass of wine throughout an evening (and we're talking about the tiddly 125ml wine glasses here, not the half-bottle wine glasses you get in most UK pubs & bars).

It's just not done to get sloshed and try to keep up with the blokes. Ever. And if I might inadvertently succumb to an extra glass (and the times that has happened can be counted on one hand), my husband will have no qualms about taking it off me as soon as he thinks I'm getting merry.

6. EXPECT OTHER WOMEN TO GO AFTER YOUR HUSBAND



Be on your guard. Always. In France, you will rarely see groups of female friends drinking or socialising together.



'What's the point?' they'd ask and shrug nonchalantly. French women are interested only in French men; they are not interested in each other.



My husband has had other women pinch his phone and programme their number into it - and we have both been propositioned by other women for a ménage à trois.



French women are very, very forward where men are concerned - and they're utterly indifferent to hurting each other's feelings.



7. THE FAMILY IS EVERYTHING



This is why Kylie Minogue lost Olivier Martinez. You can't go jetsetting all over the world, shaking your bootie from London to Los Angeles and expect the potential husband - and his family - to approve of you as marriage material.



Look at Carla Bruni - she's glued to Sarko's side. Believe me, his mother would have something to say if she wasn't.

Jetsetter: Kylie Minogue wasn't cut out to be a wife to French Olivier Martinez

A wife is expected to keep house, work (but only if it's necessary), raise the children and always, always look beautiful.



She's expected to support her husband and his family, which usually includes organising presents for the numerous family celebrations and 'fetes' (public holidays) where everyone gets together.



At all family gatherings there is an unspoken rule that women are expected to be in the kitchen, while the men enjoy an aperitif or two. Kylie - you're best off out of it.



8. DISPLAYS OF FLESH ARE A NO-NO



I had to change my wardrobe when I married Pascal. Chic was in and slutty was out. Hipster jeans, mini skirts, anything which reveals too much flesh or (horrors!) a midriff is frowned upon by a French husband.



Glimpses of underwear are strictly forbidden, too. I'm now a sleeker, chicer version of my former self.

Wearing jogging bottoms (Puma) and a pair of flip-flops (super-chic Havaianas, I might add) for a trip to the supermarket nearly gave my husband a heart attack during the early days of our marriage.



He went on about it for so long afterwards that I ended up throwing the offending items out.



He just could not comprehend it was the norm to wear them to the supermarket where I lived in London.



9. KNOW THAT PEOPLE WILL JUST DROP IN



The hours between 6pm and 8pm are the 'apero-hours' (for an aperitif). Unlike in the UK, where I'd hide behind the curtains if anyone called at the door unannounced, in France work colleagues - heck, entire families - will just turn up and you'll be expected to supply an endless stream of kirs, beers and nibbles.

You'll also be expected to entertain the kids (a video in front of the telly won't do) and you'll be expected to stop whatever it was you were doing to sit down at the table at your husband's side, while they prattle on about Sarko, strikes and the start of the hunting season.



10. ALWAYS BE ABLE TO THROW TOGETHER A THREE-COURSE MEAL - WITH AN HOUR'S NOTICE



I was christened 'Madame Congelateur' (Mrs Freezer) when I first arrived in France because of my predilection for ready meals.

I have had to learn how to cook - the French way. That means I can now prepare pot au feu (French country casserole, using that staple of every home - the pressure cooker) with the best of them.

My mother-in-law has also taken me under her wing and I can now make my own mayonnaise, salad dressing and even apple tart.



I used to be an 'expense account lunch' girl, so it's probably no bad thing that I can now cook, as Pascal prefers to give out dinner invitations - usually for eight people - just an hour or two before we sit down.



At first this would give me palpitations, but now I can cope with it. Just.



