Olivier Falorni - well and truly "April Fooled"

Remember Olivier Falorni?

He's the man who, after having received the support of that infamous Tweet from the former first lady Valérie Trierweiler, went on to beat Ségolène Royal, the Socialist party's official candidate for La Rochelle, in the 2012 parliamentary elections.

(screenshot Le Grand Journal, Canal + January 2014)

It was a defeat which stymied Royal's chances of being chosen to be the president of the national assembly and left many wondering whether she would ever make a return to frontline politics.

Meanwhile Falorni took his seat in parliament, joining the group of the Parti Radical de Gauche, (Radical Party of the Left, PRG) rather than that of the ruling Socialist party.

And little or nothing was heard of him in the national media...until last week that is.

Because the 42-year-old was the "victim" of an April Fool: one played on him by the comedian and impersonator, Gérald Dahan.

April 1 was the day the newly-appointed prime minister, Manuel Valls, was busy putting together "his" new government - and an ideal opportunity for Dahan to continue his practice of playing pranks on well-known people (and especially politicians) by ringing them under the guise of being someone else.

He has done it before to the likes of, Jean-Pierre Raffarin, Nicolas Sarkozy and, yes, even Royal.

It might not always be particularly clever or amusing, but it invariably reveals more than the butt of the joke might wish to be made public.

And that's exactly what happened on April 1.

Dahan rang Falorni, pretending to be Valls and wanting to know whether the 42-year-old would be interested in a job in the new government.

During the course of the conversation, Falorni disclosed what he (and many others) thought of Royal: how she was "uncontrollable and unpredictable" and how working with her (or under her as a junior minister) would be unthinkable.

But as you can hear from the clip which Yann Barthés and his team at Le Petit Journal on Canal + (inevitably) played on Friday evening's edition, Falorni eventually agreed to accept a position in the government with Royal as his immediate boss.

There are also some delicious behind-the-scenes disclosures from Falorni as to how many of those public alliances between "leading" members of the Socialist party are...well "surprising" to say the least.

Le Petit Journal du 04/04 - Gérald Dahan imite Manuel Valls et piège Olivier Falorni

Valérie Trierweiler - the French president's "first bodyguard"

Valérie Trierweiler hasn't had an easy time with the media since François Hollande came to power.

And finding the right title for a woman filling a role which, although it doesn't officially exist, has in the past been one whereby the spouse would most likely devote herself to philanthropy and charity work all the while steadfastly supporting her husband, has been equally difficult.

The image - at least the one portrayed by her puppet in the popular satirical programme "Les Guignols" - is one of a dominating woman who doesn't suffer fools gladly and has her buffoon of a better-half firmly under her thumb.

It might be an exaggerated and not entirely accurate representation, but it's one that sticks.

Valérie Trierweiler (screenshot from "Les Guignols")

As does a term coined during campaigning for the presidential elections last year, when a member of the centre-right Union pour un Mouvement Populaire (Union for a Popular Movement, UMP), Lionnel Luci, dubbed her "Rottweiler".

Perhaps Trierweiler hasn't helped herself, either in terms of how she's perceived or what she is supposed to be called.

The weekly news magazine, L'Express, nicknamed her the "minister of jealousy" back in June 2012 when she made that infamous Tweet in support of Olivier Falorni, the rival to Ségolène Royal in the parliamentary elections.

CNN didn't know quite how to describe Trierweiler when she accompanied Hollande on his first official trip to the United States shortly after taking office. The couple aren't married and there's no sign from either of them that the knot is going to be tied any time soon (if at all).

In the end the channel plumped for "first girlfriend".

In October last year Trierweiler announced she would be involving herself more in that catch-all term "humanitarian affairs" - mainly with children - and that it would take precedence over her work as a journalist.

She continues to write for Paris Match - but only on culture rather than politics.

Everything seemed to be settling into a more-or-less familiar "first lady" pattern.

Except last weekend there was an "incident" which brought back memories of why Luca's "Rottweiler" insult still resonates.

Trierweiler accompanied Hollande to Tulle, the town in which he used to be mayor and member of parliament.

It was the chance for the French president to gather his thoughts - albeit briefly - from the previous week's revelations in the Cahuzac affair and recharge the batteries in a place where he's apparently still liked.

At one point Hollande, complete with security detail of course, decided to go walkabouts and meet and greet.

Trierweiler was there too - not so much to smile sweetly and press some flesh: more to show how heavy her hand could be when the cameras got a little to close (for her liking) to her other half.

Keep a close eye on what happens at 40 seconds on the accompanying video from Monday evening's "Le Petit Journal" on Canal +.

It's surely Trierweiler at her "bodyguard" best.

Incomplete mealtime faction - Breakfast at the Elysée on the day of Segger's return

A play in one - very short - act.

François is sitting at the table, dressed in his best Marks and Spencer dressing gown he bought in London while there recently for the Paralympics, humming to himself while leafing his way through Peter Antonioni and Sean Masaki Flynn's gripping 2007 paperback "Economics for dummies".

Enter Valérie, designer hairnet (???) holding curlers in place and sparks metaphorically flying from her eyes as she slams the door and stomps across the floor.

"Croissant darling?" asks François, putting the book down as he puckers up his lips in anticipation of delivering a morning smacker.

There's a grunt as Valérie ignores the proffered kiss.

"Coffee maybe?" he continues.

Another grunt as Valérie pulls out a chair and plonks herself down opposite him, glowering.

"Sugar?" he asks, adding four teaspoons to help sweeten the temperament of the (second) love of his life.

Silence

"Er...is there something wrong dear?"

The quiet is broken only by the sound of a spoon being stirred; the pace increasing, with François realising that at any moment now the volcano is about to erupt.

There's a sharp intake of breath followed by a shriek...

"HOW COULD YOU?"

François rolls his eyes, feigning innocence and hoping against hopes that his beloved is not referring to what he most fears.

He says nothing.

"YOU'VE INVITED THAT WOMAN TO LUNCH," roars the country's first journalist.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU PLAYING AT COSYING UP TO THAT B....."

"Valérie. Language please. Jean-Marc might hear," interrupts François. "You know he's in the next room waiting to be briefed."

"Oh I don't give a rat's arse about Jean-Marc," replies the woman who has a gift not only with the written, but also the spoken word.

"He's just as much of a wimp as you are. In fact that whole bloody government of dimwits you've cobbled together is  band of wusses. The only one who's got any balls worth speaking about is Martine, and you, YOU, were too frightened to include her."

The minister of jealousy was on her habitual early morning roll and François knew better than to try to interject.

"Cowards, spineless weaklings, chickens - that's what your government is," says the woman who had clearly been at the thesaurus again."

"I mean just look at the way the whole lot of you virtually pooped your pants when I sent the Tweet in support of that fool Farlorni," she continues.

"And here you go again sucking up to HER as though she has any sort of role to play in politics. And why? I'll tell you why...."

François sighs.

Just a few months in office has taught him this is the best way to deal with the daily diatribe he has to endure before getting on with the real business of trying to pretend to run the country.

He knows she can't help herself. She's a woman of character after all; one who has perfected the art of the poisoned pen 21st-century style, whose talents as a writer go largely ignored even though she has flair and style in huge measure. He muses in wonderment at her most recent œuvre, 'François Hollande President; 400 jours dans les coulisses d'une victoire'.

"Yes those photos were all right. But the accompanying text, written by Valérie's fair hand...well it was simply magnificent," he thinks to himself.

He can't for the life of him work out why it's not selling well and he understands her frustration.

"Ah yes," he thinks. "That's the problem with strong women. They constantly need challenges and are so easily riled when things don't go quite how they expect. If only she wouldn't take things so seriously or personally. Maybe she should stop trying to put on a false front of pursuing a profession and get on with some real first lady like charity work," he ponders.

"Oh, oh. I had better not even think those thoughts - very politically incorrect. I would be in for a real dressing down if she knew what was going through my mind..."

"...And then to top it all, the children turned around and said they didn't want to see me. You know who turned them against me, don't you?" Valérie takes a sip of her coffee.

"Well, don't you?" she pauses

 FRANçOIS!" roars the minster of jealousy.

"Yes dear?"

"You haven't been listening to a word I've been saying. That's just so typical. Well sod it. And sod HER."

And with that the country's first journalist stands up, flings her napkin on the table and storms out of the room, shouting as she goes, "And if you think I'm going to stick around for lunch with HER and the rest of them...think again."

BANG, as the door slams shut behind her.

"Er - darling....do you mind if I finish your croissant?" mumbles François into thin air.

Ségolène Royal (screenshot interview with BFM TV)

Yes, Wednesday saw the first meet and greet session at the Elysée palace between François Hollande and the presidents of all 26 regional councils, including of course the president of Poitou-Charente - a certain Ségolène Royal.

It was her first political appearance since being humiliated in the national assembly elections back in June and journalists were on hand of course to mark the occasion as a smiling Seggers wearing a "flashy orange jacket in a sea of grey" (as she was described) found herself again the centre of attention.

And Valérie Trierweiler? Well, she had excused herself from the proceedings.

Valérie Trierweiler's behind-the-scenes look at François Hollande's presidential campaign

It can't be easy being a first lady, trying to carve out a role for yourself and at the same time wanting to remain an independent working woman.

And one thing's for sure, Valérie Trierweiler isn't making life simple for herself.

First there was an apparent behind-the-scenes apology for that infamous Tweet she sent last week in which she lent her support to Olivier Falorni in his battle against Ségolène Royal.

Seggers was the Socialist party's "official" candidate for a parliamentary seat in Charente-Maritime which Falorni thought he deserved to be contesting and...oh you probably know the story by now but just in case you can read about it here.

All right, "apology' might be exaggerating a little, especially as Trierweiler's humble "I made a mistake" is reported as second hand information.

You know the sort of thing; an unnamed source and a friend of Trierweiler's to boot, telling the national daily Aujourd'hui en France - Le Parisien that she (Trierweiler), " Had miscalculated the effect her Tweet would have upon the president's authority, the Socialist party, her children and those of François Hollande."

Anyway that was last week's news and is behind us - for the moment.

But clearly, even when saying nothing, the ever-retiring Trierweiler, resolute in her decision to be a working first lady, is destined to make the headlines.

And this week it's the publication of her new book.

Actually that's a bit of a stretch too because all she has done is provide the words to go along with a photo reportage documenting something (or someone) close to her heart: François Hollande's presidential campaign.

Hollande has written the preface to pictures taken by photographer Stéphane Ruet but it's Trierweiler who steps in to provide a running commentary (in the first person) and quite frankly she reveals herself to be a lady of letters - the Mills and Boon variety with a healthy dose of venom thrown in.

Ruet's photographs capture Hollande in some very "normal" moments at different stages throughout the campaign - by himself or surrounded by members of his team.

But because they clearly can't speak for themselves, Trierweiler puts them into context in a manner befitting that of someone clearly at ease with the power of the pen.

"A private diary" (of sorts) is how Reuters describes it with the emphasis seeming to be on how Trierweiler feels at certain moments and her interpretation of Hollande's reaction to events such as Dominique Strauss-Kahn's arrest in New York.

Perhaps her best line though is left for the rally in Rennes; the one where Hollande, as the party's official candidate, appeared on stage for the first time with Seggers.

"There has been a lot of speculation about this over the past week and plenty of photographers have turned up," she writes.

"The question fellow journalists are asking is 'Will they kiss or shake hands'. Yes the man I love had another woman in his life before me. And it just so happens that she was also a presidential candidate," she continues.

"Je fais avec," she concludes, proving to everyone perhaps exactly the contrary.

"François Hollande président, 400 jours dans les coulisses d'une victoire" is surely a must for any coffee table.

Perhaps, given the number of photos in which Trierweiler also appears, three extra words should have been included in the title - "et Valérie Trierweiler".

Whatever - hurry out to your nearest bookstore now or order it from Amazon while stocks last!

Could Trierweiler be to literature what Carla Bruni-Sarkozy was to music and film?

Valérie Trierweiler's Tweet of support for Ségolène Royal's opponent

It was probably too good to last; the self-declared "normal" presidency of François Hollande.

He, his party and France have now been treated to the sort of celebrity-cum-politics behaviour reminiscent of the days of his predecessor Nicolas Sarkozy.

And it's largely thanks to Hollande's partner, Valérie Trierweiler.

Valérie Trierweiler (screenshot YouTube video)

While the leader of the Socialist party, Martine Aubry, was on a "Save Ségolène Royal" mission to help the party's chosen candidate in her battle to win a seat in the second round of parliamentary elections, Trierweiler was putting her best stiletto heel foot forward and in the process carving out a new role for herself.

That of, in the words of L'Express magazine, the "minister of jealousy".

Trierweiler Tweeted (or should that be Twat) a message of support - for Olivier Falorni, the man running against Royal.

He has been a long-time Hollande supporter, even apparently at a time when it wasn't particularly fashionable, and as a loyal and experienced "man on the ground" had expected to be the party's candidate in the safe constituency of La Rochelle in the département of Charente-Maritime.

But the party decided differently, parachuting in Royal to contest the seat which would be the first step towards her eventually playing an important role and one she covets, as the president of the national assembly.

Farlorni, who's no fan of Royal, refused to withdraw his candidature, was suspended by the party and was only narrowly beaten in last Sunday's first round.

He's staying in the race for next weekend's second round and  presents a real threat to Royal's ambitions.

Enter stage left, the non-elected "minister of jealousy", Valerie Trierweiler, with a Tweet in which she wished Forloni "bon courage" and recognised his "years of selfless commitment (to the party)."

Just 146 not-so-innocent characters guaranteed to have an impact as the Socialist party was left jaw-to-floor, the centre-right Union pour un Mouvement Populaire (Union for a Popular Movement, UMP) enjoyed the distraction from its own problems and the media - well, went wild with a story in an otherwise rather - er - dull election campaign.

So why did she do it?

Why did Trierweiler send that message of support using a social network knowing full well that it would be out there for everyone and anyone to read?

After all she's an experienced journalist, knows what she's doing, and is far - very far - from being daft.

Maybe, after all, there's something in that headline in L'Express and Trierweiler, even though she's now first lady, still resents Royal, the woman who was Hollande's partner for 30 years and with whom he had four children.

Jealousy - really?

Why not?

Trierweiler is on record as saying she didn't vote for Royal in the first round of the 2007 presidential elections and abstained in the second.

After reading in Paris Match - the magazine for which she writes - a piece on Thomas Hollande in which he was described as the oldest child of the "couple Royal-Hollande", Trierweiler sent her colleague a terse text message saying "The ex-couple Royal-Hollande. What are you playing at?"

And that moment at the victory celebrations at Place de la Bastille in Paris after Hollande had beaten Sarkozy in last month's presidential elections was surely a sign of what was to come.

Did you notice it? Trierweiler - and many others - certainly did: Hollande giving Royal a peck on the cheek.

How did she react? With an "order" so easy to read from her lips that Hollande kiss her on the mouth - now - in front of everyone.

The "Nicolas and Carla" show might no longer be centre stage as far as the celebrity gossip magazines and certain sectors of the mainstream media are concerned, but it looks as though a worthy replacement has been found, albeit so far, just a one-woman show.