Picturing a French citizen might bring this classic stereotype to mind: a striped shirt, red beret, bold red lipstick, and perhaps a long coat. I’ll admit that I love a bold top, and I do own a trench coat, but this is not the French woman’s “uniform.”
For some context, this stripes-and-beret stereotype dates back to the 1930s, when the marinière (striped shirt) became iconic and berets were in fashion. Influential figures like Coco Chanel and Pablo Picasso helped fuel this image internationally. But today, French style is so much more diverse.
Many countries or cultural groups have clothing tied to their identity, and for France, it’s the beret and striped shirt. But fashion is a form of self-expression—it cannot be generalized. It’s a way of expressing where you come from and who you are. When you base your fashion expectations around stereotypes, you’ll be surprised by the actual style you see.
Like Chanel, celebrities and popular media clearly impact the creation of stereotypes. Before I arrived in the United States, I had seen countless movies, shows, and even TikToks about American college students’ everyday looks. I’ll admit that I had some pretty strong expectations about what I’d find. I anticipated that everyone would show up to class in athleisure or pajamas.
I can’t pinpoint when I first heard about these clothing cliches, but social media strengthened these expectations. I’d watch influencers like Alix Earle head to class in leggings or a matching set, and I figured that dressing “nicely” for class would be rare.
But after four months at Boston College, I’ve realized this cliche is nuanced. To my surprise, the girls at BC wear Vejas and jeans every day. I expected athleisure and sweatpants, so I was surprised by the prevalence of leggings, backwards hats, or Parke crewnecks (before arriving here, I had never even heard of the Parke brand).
Leggings are everywhere. Back home, wearing them outside of exercise or sports is frowned upon. I wasn’t even allowed to eat dinner in leggings. But honestly, they’re practical and comfortable. Even a small fashion choice represents a cultural difference between Americans and French—we tend to dress more traditionally, while Americans prioritize comfort.
Since arriving in the United States, it’s been fascinating to observe how cultural norms are embedded in fashion. The traditional, rigid ideology present in French society gives rise to chic and elegant clothes, always ready for the office or drinks at the nearby bar. We are taught that there’s a certain confidence to dressing up, not just for appearance but for morale—for yourself. In contrast, American style is functional and comfortable but not always weather-ready—like when I see a guy wearing shorts in 30-degree weather.
Some might argue that these trends—like the Parke crewneck or the classic striped shirt—actually shape group identity and reinforce certain stereotypes. When so many students adopt the same look, it can seem almost like a “uniform,” making it easy for outsiders to make assumptions about an entire community. And whether it’s intentional or not, shared fashion choices can blur individuality and contribute to the very cliches we try to avoid.
But fashion is a form of expression, not a uniform. In every culture, people break from stereotypes and wear what represents them.
Cliches are nuanced, and style is individual. What you wear can be a way to blend in, stand out, or simply express who you are and where you come from. Whether it’s athleisure or a carefully chosen outfit, the real uniform is confidence. Stereotypes are generalizations, and they certainly aren’t always true—I’ve never worn a beret unironically.
