7. Enter Your Focus Group Era

When I am asked for my profession for official purposes, I sometimes say writer. This often leads to questions about what have I published, a.k.a. do you actually make a livable wage off this? (No.) To avoid this interaction —which is usually five times more exhausting for me in French— I say I work in marketing. Nothing makes someone’s eyes glaze over faster than that. Conversation over. Next topic.

I technically do work in marketing, as that is my day job (to some extent), but it was probably more true when I first moved to Paris. In those early months, I was still waiting for my residence permit, so I couldn’t work in any official capacity. For money, I was a nanny, a dogwalker, and An American Who Grew Up in America.

The job title of An American Who Grew Up in America wasn’t one I knew about until I stumbled upon a Facebook post looking for Americans living in France to participate in a focus group about champagne. The offer came with €250, so I immediately signed up.

That’s how I ended up with a group of other Americans Who Grew Up in America, sipping champagne on a weekday evening in an office conference room. We were seated in front of a two-way mirror, behind which either sat suited marketing execs or unpaid interns. The whole thing didn’t last more than an hour, and all they wanted from me was my highly uninformed American opinion on various champagne.

The next one I did involved something I later learned was called neuromarketing. It’s this thing where they strap EEG sensors to your head that track your brain activity, including heart rate and serotonin levels, as you browse a site or try a product. It sounded truly dystopic — but I didn’t stop to think about it because I was doing it for Chanel.

I don’t even really care about the brand, but since they are a paradigm of French luxury, I was drawn to the opportunity to sniff around. I rolled up to their famed HQ on Rue Cambon and had a high-tech swimming cap strapped to my skull. A group of technicians studied me as I scrolled through the Chanel website and completed simple online navigation tasks.

That time, I went home with another check, plus a bottle of champagne in a Chanel shopping bag. It was the first and only time I’ve been on the metro, holding a giant luxury shopping bag. I know the power of retail euphoria, but this bootleg version of it just wasn’t hitting the same way.

I stopped participating in focus groups shortly after that, mostly because I could make as much money walking dogs and babysitting the children of the obscenely wealthy. It was definitely harder work, but at least I wasn’t having my brain activity monitored. Or worse, working in marketing.