LETTERS FROM HER ACROSS TIME- A Letter From Catherine Deneuve From Her Paris Apartment, Saint-Germain-des-Prés

To Every Woman Who Refused to Disappear

 

There is an apartment in Paris.
It is in Saint-Germain-des-Prés — the Left Bank, the literary quarter, the neighbourhood where the twentieth century
was argued into existence over coffee and the particular Parisian conviction that ideas matter more than anything.
A woman has lived there for decades. She does not discuss it publicly. She does not give tours. What happens in that
apartment — the books she reads, the meals she cooks, the grandchildren she receives, the cats she lives with —
belongs entirely and completely to her.
This privacy is not an accident. It is a philosophy.
Her name is Catherine Deneuve. In a career spanning nearly 70 years she has played more than a hundred roles. She
has survived the death of her sister, a public stroke, decades of scrutiny and the particular cruelty of a world that tells
women they should become invisible after a certain age.
She refused. She has something to say to you about refusing.
THE LETTER
Paris, Saint-Germain-des-Prés. An October morning — the light on the rooftops is extraordinary and I have been
reading since dawn.
Dear Modern Woman,
I want to begin with a decision made very quietly, very early in my career, that has governed everything since.
I decided that the public Catherine Deneuve and the private Catherine Deneuve were two completely different
women. And that only one of them — the private one — was real.
The public one — the face on the magazine covers, the woman in the Yves Saint Laurent gowns — she was real in
her way. But she was a performance. A role I played with complete commitment. Not a lie — but not the whole truth
either.
The whole truth lived in the apartment. In the books. In the mornings at the window. In the meals cooked for the
people I actually loved. In the life that was mine and not the world’s property.
This is the first thing I want to give you: the permission to be two women simultaneously. The one the world sees and
the one only you know. Both are real. But never confuse them. The private one is the one that matters most.

ON PRIVACY — HER GREATEST ACT OF SELF-POSSESSION
I have been asked about my private life for sixty years. I have not answered. Not because I have something to hide —
but because the answer is mine and I choose not to give it.
Privacy is not secrecy. Privacy is the decision that some things belong to you entirely. Not because they are shameful.
Because they are sacred.
I was in a relationship. I said so. His name was none of anyone’s business. This is a complete sentence. This is a
whole answer. The world disagreed. I did not change my mind.
You are allowed to have an interior life that belongs only to you. You do not owe the world your feelings, your
relationships, your grief or your private self. Decide which parts of yourself are yours to keep — and keep them.
ON YVES SAINT LAURENT — THE FRIENDSHIP THAT DRESSED HER LIFE
Catherine Deneuve was 22 years old when she met Yves Saint Laurent for the first time. It would be the beginning of
an enduring friendship. He wrote: ‘We write to each other often. I call her Catherine my sweet and she sends me
pale-coloured roses.’
Yves understood that I was not interested in fashion as display. I was interested in fashion as armour. The precise and
deliberate construction of a public self that was both beautiful and impenetrable.
He dressed me accordingly. The clothes were always elegant, always precise, always slightly cool — the coolness of
a woman who is giving you everything she has chosen to give and nothing more.
The clothes you put on in the morning are the decisions you make about how much of yourself you are going to give
the world today. Choose them deliberately.
HER COLOUR PALETTE
Ivory and cream — always the most elegant neutrals, worn with complete confidence.
Navy — the French woman’s alternative to black — precise and authoritative.
Warm camel — the colour of a woman who has nothing to prove.
Soft grey — the colour of intelligence and restraint.
And occasionally for the moments that require it — a deep jewel tone. A rich burgundy. A midnight blue. The colour
of a woman who has decided today is the day to be completely visible.
THE DENEUVE WARDROBE TODAY
A perfectly cut blazer in navy or camel — worn as the anchor of everything. Wide leg trousers in ivory or soft grey.
A simple silk blouse in cream or pale ivory — tucked in, always. One YSL piece if possible. Simple gold jewellery
— small, meaningful, worn every day. A structured bag in a neutral — leather, quality, chosen to last decades. Ballet
flats or a low heel — always the shoe that allows movement. A trench coat worn over everything.
ON AGEING — HER MOST RADICAL ACT
She is in her eighties. As of 2024 Deneuve continues to be a prominent figure in cinema with her latest project a
satirical political film that has been well received — highlighting her enduring relevance.

She is still working. Still choosing. Still the most interesting woman in any room she enters. Not because she has not
aged — she has. But because she has aged as herself. Completely. Without apology.
She survived a stroke in 2019. She came back. Not to prove anything. Because she had more work to do.
You are getting more interesting. Not less. Act accordingly.
ON THE LOSS OF HER SISTER
Françoise Dorléac died in 1967. She was twenty-five years old. Catherine was twenty-three. They had just made a
film together — dancing and singing side by side with the particular joy of two sisters who understood each other
completely.
And then she was gone. What I know is this: she went on. She kept working. She kept choosing. She kept being
Catherine Deneuve with complete commitment and the understanding that grief does not end a life. It deepens it.
The women who have lost something irreplaceable carry it differently. There is a depth in the eyes. A quality of
knowing. A refusal to waste time on anything that does not matter. This is not a wound. This is the gift that grief
gives — the absolute clarifying knowledge of what actually matters.
HER TABLE — THE PARISIAN LIFE
Catherine Deneuve is a Parisienne in the fullest sense — which means she takes food seriously. She shops at the local
market. She cooks for her grandchildren. She maintains the French relationship with food — the understanding that
eating well is a basic act of respect for yourself and the people you share your table with.
A properly set table — always, even for a weekday lunch. Good wine — she is French, the wine is not optional. Long
meals — the French relationship with time at the table is one of the great gifts of the culture. Conversation that is
actually interesting.
HER JOURNAL PROMPTS
1. The Two Women Prompt — Who is the public version of you and who is the private one? Are they in balance? Is
the private one getting enough of your life?
2. The Privacy Prompt — What parts of yourself have you been sharing that you would rather keep? What would it
mean to reclaim them?
3. The Dressing Deliberately Prompt — What do you put on in the morning and why? Are your clothes serving you
or performing for someone else?
4. The Ageing Prompt — What would it mean to age as yourself — completely, without apology, becoming more
rather than less?
5. The Grief Prompt — What have you lost that has changed the way you see everything? And what has that loss
given you in terms of clarity?
6. The Refusal Prompt — What have you been asked to disappear into that you are choosing to refuse? Write the
refusal. Make it complete.
WHAT CATHERINE DENEUVE WANTS YOU TO KNOW
I have been asked to disappear many times. To become less visible as I got older. To retire gracefully and leave it to
the young and the next generation.

I refused each time. Not from vanity. But from the absolute conviction that a woman who has accumulated seven
decades of experience and intelligence has more to offer — not less — than she did at twenty-two.
She received the Venice Film Festival’s Golden Lion in 2022. She was seventy-eight years old. They gave the highest
honour in cinema to a seventy-eight year old woman who had been working for sixty-five years and who showed no
signs of stopping.
The world is wrong about women and age. Your peak is not behind you. It is the accumulated weight of everything
you have lived and learned and survived and chosen. That weight is not a burden. It is the whole point.
Refuse to disappear. Keep working. Keep choosing. Keep being entirely yourself. The work continues. So does yours.
With love from a Paris morning — Catherine. Who refused to disappear — and who is still here.
AMANDA’S NOTE
I think about Catherine Deneuve every time someone tells me it is too late. She is in her eighties. She is still the most
interesting woman in any room she enters. Not because she has fought the years. Because she has accumulated them.
This is the ClaimingLife spirit at its most mature and most powerful. The woman at seventy, at eighty, where
everything that was not essential has fallen away and what remains is the truest possible version of herself.
She stayed. She worked. She refused. What is yours still being made?
With love and a very good cup of café au lait — Amanda
WHERE TO FIND HER
Paris. Saint-Germain-des-Prés. The Left Bank markets on a Saturday morning. The Musée Yves Saint Laurent Paris.
The Cinémathèque Française — where her films live. The cafés of the 6ème arrondissement where she has been
having coffee for decades.
This post is part of the Letters From Her Across Time series at ClaimingLife.com. Time does not wait for us to claim
life. Read ClaimingLife.com to claim yours.