Further research however shows that the French First Lady appears to be receiving her just desserts. LOL! They do say what goes around comes around. Karma, anyone?
By Steve Bird
Not since the days of Marie Antoinette has a woman been so reviled by the French people as Valerie Trierweiler.
Now, many are enjoying a sense of schadenfreude as the haughty partner (and previously former long-term mistress) of Francois Hollande has finally got her come-uppance.
For it seems that the twice-married 48-year-old journalist is reaping what she sowed during her own egotistical pursuit of fame and power.
Her rise — from humble ‘political affairs’ reporter to the First Lady of France, with a staff of five at the Elysee Palace — is a story of extraordinary ambition and vanity, accompanied by her trademark cattiness.
This sordid Gallic soap opera began when Hollande’s university sweetheart and mother of his four children, Segolene Royal, ran for president in 2007. At the time, he was little more than a fellow Left-wing politician with the looks of a portly small-town bank manager.
Although not married, Hollande was Royal’s dutiful common-law partner of nearly 30 years; ever at her side and always declaring his undying love for such a talented mother and politician.
Royal, though, was unsuccessful in her bid for power and was defeated by Nicolas Sarkozy.
But it later emerged that Royal’s happy-family image was a facade. For at least two years, the couple had been living a sham in a brazen attempt to bolster her presidential chances.
In truth, around 2005, Hollande had left Royal for Trierweiler, the Paris Match journalist then on her second marriage.
To the French public, the revelation offered the most dysfunctional public love triangle since Princess Diana famously revealed there were three in her marriage. Even the usually supportive, Left-leaning newspaper Liberation described Hollande as starring in the middle of a ‘psychodrama’.
A subsequent biography of herself, which Trierweiler tried to ban, even claimed that she was sharing her favours at the time with another man — the conservative politician, Patrick Devedjian.
In due course, Hollande and Royal split and he decided to run — successfully — for president himself. Naturally, Trierweiler (appearing in a black chiffon dress that had a high split and exposed her favourite nude tights) moved into the Elysee Palace with him and set about underscoring her triumph with a campaign of open hostility towards her previous love-rival, Royal.
Trierweiler was single-minded in her determination. Nicknamed Valerie ‘Rottweiler’, she was accused of demanding that Hollande’s political team removed a photo of Royal from his campaign literature. She also berated any journalist who failed to mention that, despite their political allegiance, Royal and Hollande were no longer an item.
For example, when a Paris Match colleague mentioned the son of the ‘Royal-Hollande couple’, Trierweiler sent the tetchy text message: ‘What are you playing at? The ex-couple, Royal-Hollande!’
In 2012, she used Twitter to rile Royal, then standing as the official Socialist candidate in an election in La Rochelle, by supporting her political opponent. This was deeply humiliating for Hollande, who had already declared his backing for Royal.
Trierweiler’s concern, it seems, was that Hollande’s ex-lover might end up working closely with him.
Not surprisingly, Royal declared the tweet a ‘poisonous stab in the back’ and quoted the writer Victor Hugo, saying: ‘Traitors always pay for their treachery in the end.’
The prime minister told Trierweiler she ought to ‘know her place’ and a French newspaper joined the fray, describing Hollande as ‘a man sandwiched between two feisty women’, likening the cat-fight to an episode of TV’s Dallas.
For their part, Hollande’s four children by Royal declared they would never speak to Trierweiler again.
The enmity between the two women is even more remarkable when you consider that, in 1992, after Royal gave birth to her fourth child by Hollande, she gave the first interview from the maternity ward to none other than Trierweiler.
How times have changed. At Hollande’s presidential victory party, he was filmed kissing Royal on the cheek, only for Trierweiler to then demand he kiss her on the mouth.
What is most hypocritical is that, throughout this unedifying saga, Trierweiler — a journalist for a sensationalist magazine which has for years covered the private lives of France’s elite — has tried to use privacy laws to ban revelations about herself.
But she sees herself as superior to other journalists, with Hollande’s campaign team nicknaming her ‘The Duchess’. Once, she hit a colleague for making what she took to be an ‘anti-feminist’ remark.
The day after Hollande became president, she boasted that she would be a far better First Lady than her predecessor, Sarkozy’s glamorous pop-star wife, Carla Bruni.
As her confidence as First Lady has grown, so she has become increasingly bossy. She is said to have put Hollande on a diet (banning puddings) and took notes on his BlackBerry in meetings.
However, some political commentators believe the President has become increasingly irritated by his pushy partner and perhaps is pleased that his affair with an actress 18 years younger than him has been exposed. Indeed, Trierweiler must have been devastated by the revelation.
Born in a four-bedroom council house in a working-class district of Angers, a city in the Loire Valley, and the fifth child of six, she drove herself to success through a combination of brains, beauty and hard work.
Her father, a clerk, had lost a leg after standing on a landmine in 1944 when he was 12.
A disciplinarian, he encouraged his children to express their opinions during dinner table debates and, every night before bed, they would be expected to read for half an hour.
Though doing well at school, his daughter appeared more interested in clothes than politics. ‘I’d have expected to see her as a fashion critic rather than a political journalist,’ her mother, who worked as a cashier at an ice-rink to make ends meet after her husband died, admitted years later.
But she proudly watched as her daughter went on to win her place at the centre of Paris’s political scene.
Now with Valerie ‘Rottweiler’ in hospital, suffering from ‘exhaustion’, the saga, which the French have called ‘Dallas at the Elysee’, clearly has many more episodes to run.
Culled from dailymail.co.uk