The pure joy of people-watching
Photo: Charles Loyer for Unsplash
To the casual observer, it may look as if I’m simply loafing around in a Parisian street cafe, idly toying with a café crème. But behind the vacant-looking facade, I’m in fact extremely busy. I’m appraising, deducing, registering and surveying. I’m surmising, supposing and judging. The pavements are heaving with delectable human traffic, and I’m fully engaged in an epic session of my very favourite pastime, people-watching.
Spring is here, people are emerging from their wool-swaddled torpor, and I’m more than ready for them. Is there a better way of whiling away an hour or two in a bustling bar than positioned at a ringside table, nursing an apéritif and watching the comings and goings of complete strangers?
Foreign cities with a vibrant cafe culture offer the richest entertainment, because in general, British people hate being looked at. They’d rather stay indoors. A deeply embedded, highly combustible combination of crippling self-consciousness and a never-far-from-the-surface sense of boiling outrage/suspicion means that our version of people-watching often ends badly. In the UK we call it staring, being nosy, poking around in other people’s business.
The Boot Cafe. Photo: Jan Mitchell for Unsplash
But, wow, how very entertaining it is. In France, Italy, Spain and countless other cities, people-watching is regarded as a joyous, mandatory part of outdoor socialising, and rarely ends in fist fights or calls to the emergency services. Indeed, outrage only tends to surface if you’re NOT looked at. What’s wrong with my outfit you wonder, as you sashay past a lively brasserie, garnering not a single glance from the assembled crowd? Must try harder, you think. An extra flick of the hair next time, a swish of the coat, maybe an additional layer of swaggering, look-at-me mystery afforded by a pair of sunglasses or flamboyantly-knotted scarf.
Because the sure knowledge you’re going to be forensically scrutinised as you go about your everyday business keeps you on your toes, presentation-wise. And that can be a good thing, right? In other, more flagrantly exhibitionist countries, there are entire words dedicated to the art of showing off. La Passeggiata in Italy is the evening tradition of meeting, mingling, spectating, admiring and generally indulging in a mutually enriching display of public theatre. What’s the purpose of an Esplanade, a Piazza, a Promenade, if not an open invitation to strut and preen for the endless delectation of random onlookers?
Parisian Cafe. Photo: Elif Sari for Unsplash
Still, to the novice bistro-based spectator, there are certain unspoken rules. The trick to successful, non-aggravating people-watching is to coolly observe, not brazenly gawp. You must adopt an air of casual but detached interest, not slack-jawed staring. Ogling, perving and visual undressing are unwelcome interlocutors in the general code of conduct. Don’t even think of pointing or laughing, and for pity’s sake put your camera phone away; you don’t want a cease and desist order to take home to Blighty with you.
Finally, pick your spot. Urban pedestrianisation is the greatest modern advancement in the sport of people-watching. Choose a bar where roads converge, a busy corner, a bustling shopping street, and time it right for maximum traffic. Lunchtimes, rush hour, pre-dinner, sit back and marvel: this delicious scenario may take some time to chew over. Monsieur? Encore de Kir Royale, s’il vous plait….
Judy Rumbold is a freelance writer and journalist and new TNMA contributor.
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Discussion (19 Comments)
Martine Large says:
Thank you for this post; I’ve just got back from a weekend in Paris, including plenty of pavement cafe people watching, and this has helped ease my withdrawal symptoms.
Sara says:
Thank you for such a fabulous reminder of one of the best aspects of my very favourite city. Everything you say is just so spot on to my lovely memories. Unfortunately as my husband has now become disabled, I think memories will be what we both now have, rather than anticipation of future visits. We had several favoured cafes, all on the left bank, one close to both Cafe de Flore and Les deux Magots ; we always thought those two were just too touristy and no longer any kind of haunt of the Parisian art crowd but a magnet for unsuspecting tourists, about to pay more than handsomely for a name no longer redolent of a long-gone Paris. The Cafe Napoleon, on the narrow street behind both, but well positioned for first class people watching, was a delight. I loved how the cafe seating is always arranged to provide this essential service, so many hours spent just enjoying this pastime, with good coffee, good wine and the occasional pastry. Somehow, sitting on any British street just doesn’t have the same je ne sais quoi, even when the sun is shining, as in my memory, it always was in Paris. Definitely remembering withcadvantages, I suspect! My favourite city of all time, especially in which to indulge both people watching and the art of the flaneuse.
Gill says:
It’s an excellent way to pass the time. Dutch and Belgian cafés are very good for this too.
Theresa LaSalle says:
I once dated a guy…I was then in my 60s…and he said he can’t understand in Paris…why people sit in cafe’s just watching people. I should have known then this wasn’t going to work.
Boadicea says:
Ah, the art of the flaneuse (see Sara’s comment). I’d been a practitioner for years before I learned that what I was doing had a proper name!
Amsterdam is my Paris for people-watching. I am always amazed – and envious – of how Dutch ladies manage to look and stay so stylish while bicycling. As someone who’s never been able to ride a bike (no sense of balance) I can only look on in admiration. And dream…
(Anyone know a good hypnotist?)As for doing my own parading, yep, Judy’s nailed it: a crippling self consciousness. And that’s not going change after all these years! But as for being the secret watcher from the cafe table, bring it on!
Claudia says:
When I first lived in a city as a student I would walk a lot and take care to coordinate my clothes to create a visual presentation and regularly got compliments (that weren’t pervy). Then moved to the suburbs and drove. Throw the coat on the seat, gloves slip onto the floor, the hat hits the headrest, shoes whatever got me from the driver’s seat to the door. So glad to live in the city and again and style for the sidewalks!
Leslie Alexander says:
People watching has always been my favourite sport – anywhere, but especially in Paris!
caroline says:
Oh, but people watching in Japan is such a treat too — flamboyant adolescents, professional and middle agers elegantly dressed, older folks in pragmatic, pleasing garb and the impossibly adorable children in their school uniforms or matching hats for field trips.
More like Europe than the U.S. in many ways, among them the great public transport system that brings people out on the sidewalks and together in common spaces for gazing and being gazed at.Judy Rumbold says:
I have never been to Japan but for all the reasons you mention (plus the food and cherry blossom!), I’d love to go. I can feel a world people-watching tour coming on…
Susanna says:
I’m in Japan at the moment, enjoying the people watching so much. Life is lived in public here and the fashion sense is inspiring in all ages.
Mrs Tonia says:
So evocative this piece describing cafe life on the Continent as they used to call it. Bit I liked best : the upping of one’s game when striding down the Boulevards. Last time I was there I realised it wasn’t just the clothing but the body language one needed to convey while being scrutinised. Head held high matching past the onlookers with confidence.
Patrish says:
As a young woman, I’d always arrive at the airport with lots of time to spare; simply to people watch. I find great joy in the simplicity of watching people no matter where I am. The act has helped me define my personal style.
Thanks for this lovely post.Maureen Casey says:
Ooh yes one of my favourite activities. Just got back from some very satisfying people watching in France and Spain. Many years ago art galleries in Paris and Italy were great places to people watch. Locals would stroll through galleries on a Sunday in fabulous outfits. Sadly that pleasure was lost when visiting galleries became a tourist activity rather than a cultural one, so all you see in the Paris museums these days are badly dressed Americans/Brits/other norther Europeans taking photos of every painting (though I’m sure this doesn’t apply to readers of this blog!). Though it’s more than forty years since I lived in Paris I enjoy putting together an outfit for going into town. These days it is purely for my own pleasure, sadly where I live the dress code for most women in their 60s/70s is to wear clothes suitable for fell walking no matter what the occasion!
Ah yes, the dreaded fell-walking gear! I’m glad I’m not the only one who despairs of the default garish anorak/backpack/horrible trainers look of the average tourist in museums and galleries. Come on people – buck up your ideas! (I don’t say this out loud, but sometimes wish I could…). Keep putting those joyous outfits together and dressing for your own pleasure, Maureen!
Hear, hear! With you all the way, I love seeing a touch of style, especially when there are all the wonderful things to see in museums and galleries as the main event.
Hear. Hear.
One has to keep up standards of dress for oneself. Never mind what the norm around is. Or that form of super practical hiking clothing outfits.
Teresa Hutchings says:
My 25 year old daughter and I love to sit at a cafe table and “watch the world go by” commenting on outfits that we like and good combinations of colour etc. a great way to have mother and daughter bonding time!
Yvonne Leave a Reply
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OH WHAT A LOVELY TOPIC.
I CAN RECALL MANY YEARS AGO WHEN I WAS OUT WITH MY PARENTS IN THE CAR AND GRANNIE SAT IN FRONT SEAT AND ANY COUPLE WALKING BY LOVELY DOVEY GRANNIE WOULD. AUTOMATICALLY SAY TO DADDY. LOOK AT THEM HOLDING HANDS YOU CAN TELL THEIR NOT MARRIED. F