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Evolution of freedom in France: in print, fashion, style, and lives

… Parisian lesson about allies … 200 years of freedom celebrated …

MARTINA NICOLLS

Dec 21

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Having survived revolutions, empires, republics, wars, occupations, technological upheavals, and the relentless churn of modern media, the French newspaper Le Figaro celebrates 200 years of continuous publication in 2026 since its launch on 15 January 1826.

To celebrate, it is telling stories about France, Paris, and freedom in its commemorative bicentenary book, Le Figaro, 200 ans de liberté – Le Figaro, 200 years of freedom – by Étienne de Montety. In France, freedom remains inseparable from the triad that still underpins the country: liberté, égalité, fraternité – liberty, equality, fraternity.

France, for all its contradictions, has always taken ideas seriously. Newspapers are not merely sources of information here; they are arenas of thought. To write freely, or sometimes to fight for the right to do so, has long been part of the French civic tradition. That is why this bicentenary matters. Le Figaro’s 200 years are not just a celebration of endurance, but of continuity in dissent, in conversation, and in the belief that words matter.

The newspaper has a weekend insert magazine called Madame Figaro. For the bicentenary, there is a collector’s edition called Madame Figaro: 200 years of fashion & beauty. But Madame Figaro, often misunderstood as “only” a lifestyle magazine, is also celebrating 200 years of women journalists contributing to the magazine.

What strikes me about the Madame Figaro collector’s edition is how intelligently, and subtly, it reflects journalistic freedom. On the surface, the magazine moves through familiar territory: fashion, beauty, skin, style, and appearance. But page by page, it shifts inward: from what women wear to how they live – from outward appearance to inner essence, from superficiality to substance. This movement mirrors a truth many women understand instinctively as they age: outer freedom is meaningless without inner freedom.

Fashion can be powerful and expressive, but deeper emancipation lies in the freedom to write, to observe, and to question. The women highlighted in the feature article “Cinq figures libres” – “Five figures of freedom” – showcase the audacity of five women reporting beyond fashion and venturing into newspaper reportage.

George Sand, la débutante (the beginner) wrote under a male pseudonym before contributing to Le Figaro in 1831. Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin de Francueil (1804-1876) was told that journalism was no place for her. She proved otherwise, and then rewrote the rules entirely.

Colette, la grande reporter (the senior reporter) had a simple, but radical, principal at the time: “One must see, not invent.” Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette (1873-1954) reported on daily life, animals, women, and, almost scandalously, women’s desire.

Hélène de Turckheim, la franc-tireuse (the sharpshooter) began writing for Le Figaro in 1955. Turckheim (1921-2011) refused to be confined to fashion alone. From political portraits to cultural criticism and royal weddings, she moved freely across genres long before that freedom was normalized.

Hélène Carrère d’Encausse, l’académicienne (the academic) was a historian and permanent secretary of the French Academy, embodying the freedom of intellect and authority. Writing regularly for Le Figaro, Carrère d’Encausse (1929-2023) brought historical depth into public debate right up until her death.

Janie Samet (1931-2022), la papesse de la haute couture (the high priestess of high fashion) was a fashion editor, confidante of designers, and cultural observer. She spoke volumes about power, gender, and modernity.

Together, these women illustrate something essential: freedom at Le Figaro was never only about what you wore, but about what you dared to write and think. Freedom, after all, is not static. It matures. After reading the collector’s edition of Madame Figaro, I thought it captured that movement of journalistic freedom beautifully, from skin to soul, and from silhouette to substance.

As someone who has lived and worked across decades of political shifts, social change, and media evolution, I am acutely aware of how fragile journalistic freedom is. It is still being eroded slowly through pressure, conformity, and fear.

At a moment when trust in media is fragile and attention spans are short, Le Figaro’sbicentenary edition shows that journalism striving for continuity can also be courageous in its conversations about women across generations. The Madame Figaro collector’s edition may celebrate beauty and fashion, but its subtext is unmistakable: it is about women’s freedom to work, to age, and to matter.

Two hundred years after its founding, Le Figaro is a mirror and a provocateur. Its anniversary is not just a celebration of longevity, but of “the slow, stubborn expansion of freedom” in print, in style, and in women’s lives. Perhaps that is the most Parisian lesson of all: that elegance and resistance, beauty and intellect, journalism and liberty have never been opposites, but allies.

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