France is finally stubbing out its romance with smoking. Maybe the rest of us should too

If the country that glamourised the cigarette is finally breaking up with the nasty habit, then maybe we should too, writes Emilie Murray

To deal with the shame of my smoking addiction, I often joke that the reason I keep at it is because I live in Paris and that frankly, it would be rude not to take part in the French national pastime.

The first time I smoked a cigarette I was 14. I was at a girl’s birthday party, and a group of us huddled around a firepit in her back garden, passing a rolled-up cigarette between us. I remember it tasting awful and desperately trying not to cough.

Almost a decade on since my first drag, I have slowly but steadily worked my way up to the category of “smoker”.