Free The Culture Code by Clotaire Rapaille

history, the French have vacillated between periods when a privileged class ruled the day and periods when this class is overthrown and the nation abolishes privileges and titles. The most famous example occurred, of course, in 1789, though it is interesting to note that Napoleon began a new era of titles and privilege not long thereafter. Today, France has again shifted on this axis toward freedom, but there is still a very real tension, as a result of the Communist Party’s espousal of many of the tenets of privilege (minimal or no work, government responsibility for financial welfare, and so on). The French strictly enforce a thirty-five-hour workweek and have six weeks of paid vacation a year, free medical care, and free education. It might be a shock to the French themselves to hear me describe this way of life as aristocratic, but while the
content
of the behavior has changed, the
structure
is very consistent with aristocracy: the notion that working is bad and beneath any person of worth. Though there are few actual aristocrats in France any longer, the undercurrent of privilege still exists, as exemplified by a system where you receive more money in unemployment benefits than you can in many jobs.
    When Disney launched Euro Disney in Paris, they learned how much privilege means to the French culture. Originally, the theme park had the same rules as all other Disney parks, barring pets, smoking, and the consumption of alcohol. The French stayed away in droves because they didn’t like such restrictions. Disney broke through to the French market only when they began to offer special “privilege passes” that allowed access (for a premium price) to certain parts of the park where visitors could take their pets, smoke, and drink wine. The idea of islands of privilege in a sea of equality was right on Code for the French.

    BEAUTY AS A BALANCING ACT AND A NOBLE PURSUIT
    When Cover Girl (a division of Procter & Gamble) hired me to find the Culture Code for beauty in America, the tension related to this archetype emerged in my very first discovery sessions.
    Female participants, raised in a culture where the unconscious Code for sex is VIOLENCE , consistently told stories whose unspoken message was that one needed to strike a balance between being attractive and being provocative. They gave the clear impression that a line divided being beautiful and being
too sexy,
and that if they crossed it, they put themselves in danger.
    Certainly, there are messages supporting this notion throughout the American culture: a judge deciding a rape victim provoked her attacker with her appearance or her actions, for example, or the slashing of a model’s face because her assailant thought she was too perfect. American women therefore navigate an axis between beauty and provocativeness, coming as close to crossing over as they are comfortable without actually doing so. Unconsciously, they compile a list of rules to follow: high heels are fine at a social function, but too sexy for the workplace; a tight-fitting, low-cut dress might be acceptable at a private cocktail party with your husband, but if you’re single and you wear it to a bar, you’re on the prowl; bold makeup can work for a night on the town, but if you wear it to the supermarket, expect some sidelong glances. One of the reasons Victoria’s Secret is such a successful company is that it offers women an easy way to navigate this axis: they can be as feminine and sexy as they want
underneath
their clothes, the secret side. Lingerie is the safe way to be beautiful and provocative at the same time. In fact, the name of the company itself suggests the axis, the tension. On one side, we have “Victoria,” suggesting Victorian rigidity and repression; on the other side, the “Secret,” the hidden closet, the forbidden expression of sexual attraction and beauty.
    Uncovering this tension told me a great deal about the perception of beauty in this culture. Being a woman in