As a fan of fashion, youth subculture, and the 1960s, at some point I was bound to be made aware of the French minet subculture. Obviously, since I’m writing about it, that momentous occasion has arrived at some point in my past. I can’t remember when or where it occurred (the internet is a safe bet) but in the intervening years I’ve found very little about this stylish group. Compounding my frustration is the fact that what little that I have uncovered about minets is almost always written or recorded in French — a language of which a month of skipping class at College les pins Castries did little to improve my command. The French Wikipedia (Wikipédia) is humorously blunt in its entry: un jeune homme vêtu à la mode, équivalent masculin de la minette. Last and least — most of what has been written about minets in English is by writers discussing within the larger context of mod subculture — a style tribe about which far too much is artlessly written and rehashed.

With that in mind, however, kindly allow me briefly add to the conversational clutter concerning mod, as its evolution is tied closely to that of the minet. Although today mod is often characterized as a mid-60s, working class subculture fueled by the holy trinity of amphetamines, scooters and soul music, it first appeared in the late 1950s when a largely middle class group of mostly Jewish teenagers with families in the clothing business and for whom the chosen drug was apparently coffee. Modernists, as they then to themselves referred, championed modern jazz over trad jazz (which was championed by the Acker Bilk-listening, bowler-hatted, beer-swilling, baggy sweater-and-duffle coated trads). Sharing their love of modern jazz were the beatniks, but their beardy, black, cultivated scruffiness was rejected in favor of the natty continental style associated with untouchable icons of French cool like Jean-Paul Belmondo and Alain Delon.
The caffeinated coffee bar scene had sprung up in the London‘s Soho area and attracted skiffle fans, rock ‘n’ rollers, beatniks, trads, mods, and more. There were venues like Les Enfants Terrible, Le Macabre, Le Kilt, and La Poubelle which catered to a caffeinated clientele of French au pairs, expats, children of diplomats, students, tourists, and the Francophile Modernists, who adopted the custom of smoking Gauloises, the French cut hair style and Shetland wool cardigans paired with brushed or quilted bluejeans, white socks, and loafers (either tasseled or penny — with a genuine American cent piece, of course). The English exposed the French, in turn, to a better class of pop music.
The mod’s French cousin first appeared in Paris around 1962, often lurking around Le Drugstore which despite its name, was more akin to a department store. It was supposedly the only place in France where one could keep up with the English music scene through editions of the now defunct weekly, Melody Maker. Perhaps more importantly, it was also open later than other businesses.
Shortly after the assassination of President John F. Kennedy in 1963, the American Ivy League look which had so distinguished him from his buttoned-up predecessor, Dwight D. Eisenhower, proliferated on the campus of The American University of Paris. Madras or seersucker jackets were paired with pastel sweaters, oxford shirts, blue jeans, and shoes from English manufacturers like Church’s and John Lobb. Suits, when worn, were snug and made of Harris Tweed, herringbone cheviot, hound’s-tooth, or mohair. That same year Maurice Renoma opened his shop, Renoma, which was likely the first French boutique with the English-and-American-influenced minet aesthetic.
The Ivy League look was also influential on the mods over in the UK. In 1965, Office de Radiodiffusion Télévision Française were curious enough about mods to send a production crew to London where they filmed an episode of the series Seize millions de jeune, which aired in May. In October, the same series turned its sites to the minets.
https://player.ina.fr/player/embed/CPF86651461/1/1b0bd203fbcd702f9bc9b10ac3d0fc21/460/259/1
For mods, obscurity was prized and finding soul records that no one else had was rewarded with cultural capital. Americanophilia and Angolophila had long been present in French youth subcultures — going back at least to the zazous of the swing era up to the yé-yés of the late 1950s (who were of course detested by the minets) and snobbery (ironically, since snobbishness is one of the stereotypes most commonly attributed to the French by Anglos) seems to have been less important. Not only did minets embrace mod groups like The Small Faces and The Who, but well-known British Invaders like The Moody Blues, The Pretty Things, The Spencer Davis Group, and The Yardbirds.
As with mods, the minets also championed American rhythm & blues, rock ‘n’ roll, and soul acts likeAretha Franklin, Chuck Berry, James Brown, Otis Redding, and Wilson Pickett — who were heard in Europe via anti-authoritarian British pirate radio stations like Radio Caroline and Wonderful Radio London (both of which launched offshore in 1964) and the English language Radio Luxembourg. However, whereas most mods seemed only to appreciate mostly black American music and style icons, the minets were embraced the sunshine pop of The Association, the baroque pop of The Left Banke, and the garage rock of The Shadows of Knight. Approval was also granted to rebellious figures likeJames Dean and — after he starred in 1966’s The Wild Angels — Peter Fonda.
In May 1966, the American magazine, LIFE, ran a piece titled “Face It! — Revolution in Male Clothes,” the sartorially subversive subjects of which profiled men in the UK, the US, and France. Five months later, the first song which acknowledged the existence of the minets topped the French pop charts, Jacques Dutronc‘s “Les play boys.” First Nino Ferrer, then Vignon (né Abdelghafour Mouhsine but sometimes referred to as “Le James Brown marocain”), and Michel Polnareff were among the few French pop singers rated by the minets before the dawn of Dutronc.
Dutronc was employed as a songwriter and artistic director at Disques Vogue, whose previous efforts to exploit subcultures included records by Dylan-inspired hippie, Antoine, modish Les Mods, and beatnikBenjamin. Rising above all silly subcultures was the magnificent Françoise Hardy, who would years later marry Dutronc. Benjamin had recorded the satirical, “Et moi, et moi, et moi,” a collaboration between Dutronc and Jacques Lanzmann — an established novelist, ex-boyfriend of Simone de Beauvoir, and future director of the epic holocaust documentary, Shoah. Unsatisfied with the Benjamin’s version, Dutronc gave the song a shot and it almost topped the charts.
Dutronc’s second single, “Les play boys,” was released in October 1966 and the lyrics humorously acknowledged the minets with the lines:
J’ai pas peur des petits minets
Qui mangent leur ronron au Drugstore
Ils travaill’nt tout comme les castors
Ni avec leurs mains, ni avec leurs pieds
“Les play boys” resided at the top of the charts for six weeks and sold more than half a million copies and Dutronc become one of the few French musicians adopted by the mods. The two subcultures continued to convergently evolve and around 1967 a psychedelicfoppishness began to undermine the dignified dandyism of both. Furthermore, the original stylists of both were becoming a bit old for adolescent scene-dependent soul searching and group-derived displays of non-conformity.
Even as the scene lost its style steam the void left by the departing originals was filled by growing numbers of new, peacockish recruits. Catering to them were new hangouts in and around Saint-Germain-des-Prés including Carette, Le Club Pierre Charron, Le Mimi Pinson, Le New Store, Pub Renault, Le Relais de Chaillot, and Scoss. If maturation and domesticity claimed most of the original minets, more were led away by the events of Mai 68, the cultural effect of which was far more resounding than even the tunes of their 45s.
The final generation of minets continued to dance dance dance at then-new clubs like Le Roméo Club Paris. When Jim Morrison and Pamela Courson moved to the Le Marais area of Paris in 1971, Courson frequently crossed the Seine with her dope-dealing chum, Count Jean de Breteuil, to hang out with the last minets at places like Brasserie Lipp, Cafe de Flore, and Les Deux Magots. Whilst I wouldn’t want to be the first person to suggest that Morrison was inspired by minets, Courson was certainly aware of them and Morrison did seem to trade in his leathers for a preppier look.
The impact of the minet subculture seems to have mostly faded in the 1970s although the Japanesecityboy (シティーボーイ) trend of the late 1970s (associated with the magazine Popeye) similarly embraced a preppy yet anti-authoritarian bohemianism — as does Free & Easy, which promotes the what they call the “rugged ivy” aesthetic (although few would argue that either are fully-fledged subcultures). In 1998, Franco-Teutonic band Stereo Total released a song “Les Minets” on their album, Juke-Box Alarm. The current preppie-but-not-peppy uniform of the Hipsterjugend – though uninspired in its execution — is perhaps nevertheless in part inspired by the minets — although that shouldn’t be held against them (and one of their betters should tell those knaves to starch and tuck in their shirts). More clearly aspiring to minet revivalism are so-called Paris Mod Allnighters, with a flyer from one such event pictured here.
The little that I have found about minets which I can share is this short documentary, Les Minets du Champs, which is really just a short interview with former minet Bernard Bacos, who’s one of the scene’s only chroniclers of which I’m aware (check out his website, Paris 70). There is at least one written work, Christian Eudeline‘s Anti-yé-yé: Une autre histoire des sixties which I haven’t read but has a nicely provocative title.
La Bande du drugstore
La Bande du drugstore Bande-annonce VF
Probably the highest profile look back at minet movement was La bande du drugstore, the debut film of writer/director François Armanet which I also haven’t seen and has so far only been released on a PAL 2 DVD with French audio and no subtitles. That film also resulted in the release of a soundtrack available on CD, a format for which there are thankfully no region codes and which includes many of the aforementioned bands as well as the Australian band The Easybeats, Sam & Dave, Cream, Little Esther Phillips, Sonny & Cher, Christophe, The Troggs, and The Full Spirit.
*****
Eric Brightwell is an adventurer, writer, rambler, explorer, cartographer, and guerrilla gardener who is always seeking writing, speaking, traveling, and art opportunities. He is not interested in writing advertorials, clickbait, listicles, or other 21st century variations of spam. Brightwell’s written work has appeared in Amoeblog, diaCRITICS, and KCET Departures. His work has been featured by the American Institute of Architects, the Architecture & Design Museum, the Craft & Folk Art Museum, Form Follows Function, Los Angeles County Store, Skid Row Housing Trust, and 1650 Gallery. Brightwell has been featured in the Los Angeles Times, Huffington Post, Los Angeles Magazine, LAist, Eastsider LA, Boing Boing,Los Angeles, I’m Yours, and on Notebook on Cities and Culture. He has been a guest speaker on KCRW‘s Which Way, LA? and at Emerson College. Art prints of his maps are available from 1650 Gallery and on other products from Cal31. He is currently writing a book about Los Angeles and you can follow him on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.
ghetto dandies ;0)
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I heard that song for the first time a week or two ago and Shazamed it. It’s cool that he’s a classic man but I wish that dapper didn’t always translate to “old timey.” It’s much harder to be a modernist dandy, though!
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