Joséphine knew what she wanted, she made her own rules and didn’t give a damn what anyone thought. She started as a nobody but with sass, hustle and a little bit of luck, she became the Empress of the French.
After her first marriage ended with her husband’s brush with the guillotine in 1794, Joséphine was herself arrested but used cunning and seduction to get released the day before her own date with the blade.
Following this she lived life with the motto ‘c’est la fucking vie’ and didn’t hold back. She became a hedonistic It Girl, an unapologetic hot mess. A hit on the dance floor and great in the sack.
When she met Napoleon at a party, he was a penniless soldier but she had an eye for talent. He was six years younger, he already had two kids, but she seduced him. They got hitched straight away in a hastily pulled together, Vegas-style wedding the night before Napoleon left for battle in Italy. During the ceremony, she wore one of his medallions emblazoned with “To Destiny”.
The lovers wrote to each other every day but she soon grew bored of playing the trophy wife. While Napoleon was off warmongering and womanising, she kept busy by throwing parties and taking a string of famous lovers. She eventually joined Napoleon the night before battle only to have her advances rebuffed by him, “Not Tonight Joséphine”, a sign of the growing chasm between them.
She lived more and more luxuriously as her wealth grew. She stocked her menagerie with black swans, emus and kangaroos, collected exotic roses and toucan feathers dipped in gold. When they finally split, she left the palace with a shitload of luggage, her entourage and a pet parrot. He still loved her until his death, her name being his very last word.
Well behaved women don’t make history. We are the Bande De Filles, Joséphine’s girl gang.