interlude in France

I heard somewhere, some chat show interlude, 
feminists in France like to keep their armpits clean,
sans hair, sweet dell, lipstick and high heels,
love  to wear their femininity intact.

How they have not surrendered it
to accomodate their philosophy in fact,
how they look on overalls and haired armpits
with some disdain, and some amazement
at what they feel is self inflicted pain.

The thought occurs to me occasionally,
I think I would like French women
more than I would like French men.
In whom the Vichy genes seem to reassert themselves,
every now and then.