Nation: La Presidente

"I do not think it altogether inappropriate for me to introduce myself," said the President of the U.S. to members of the Paris press. "I am the man who accompanied Jacqueline Kennedy to Paris." President Kennedy was not exaggerating: in the eyes of the world, his talks with Charles de Gaulle might take on historic significance, but to the people of Paris their deliberations were secondary. From the moment of her smiling arrival at Orly Airport, the radiant young First Lady was the Kennedy who really mattered.

As the presidential motorcade made its way through the jammed, flag-draped streets, great crowds of people pressed close to her limousine for a glimpse. A 101-gun salute shook the city and was all but drowned out by the rousing cry, "Vive Jacqueline!''

Alexandre & Nathalie. Jackie's conquest of Paris was no haphazard campaign. No summit conference was more carefully planned than the First Lady's return to the city she had come to love as a student at the Sorbonne. In two truckloads of presidential luggage was a blinding array of gowns and jewels—and in making her plans. Jackie was keenly conscious of the fact that no tiny sag or hemline or stray strand of hair would escape the notice of the style-conscious people of Paris.

In May, Alexandre, the city's leading hairdresser, received a top-secret letter from the White House with a lock of Jackie's hair enclosed, and a request for his services during the forthcoming visit (see MODERN LIVING). To the Parisian branch of the cosmetician Harriet Hubbard Ayer went another urgent request, mustering out Europe's leading makeup expert, Nathalie, for the duration of the Kennedy trip.

On her first night in Paris, Jackie was dressed, coifed and made up as elaborately as any princess. When she emerged from her bedroom at the Palais des Affaires Etrangeres, she was magnificent in a narrow, pink-and-white straw-lace gown and a swooping 14th century hairdo with a fake topknot. Even John Kennedy, a man who is not notably attentive to the nuances of fashion, was frankly impressed. "Well," he said, "I'm dazzled."

So was everyone else. At an intimate luncheon for 40 at the Elysée Palace, President de Gaulle had only perfunctory greetings for Jean Gavin, wife of the

American ambassador, on his left, scarcely touched the elaborate lunch that was laid before him. Seated at his right, Jacqueline zeroed in with a flashing smile and began to speak in her low, slow French.

The glacial Charles de Gaulle promptly melted. It was not the first time Jackie had worked her magic on the French President; last year, during his trip to Washington. De Gaulle observed with a sigh: "If there were anything I could take back to France with me, it would be Mrs. Kennedy."