Defining "Chic"

"I mean French is really very easy, for instance the French use the word 'sheik' for everything, while we only seem to use it for gentlemen when they seem to resemble Rudolph Valentino." - Lorelei Lee (from Gentlemen Prefer Blondes by Anita Loos)

Aside from the misuse of the word "curvy," I resent the reckless abandon with which the word "chic" is flung about in pop culture these days. The reason for my couturial crankiness is twofold: both the wordsmith and the fashion lover in me are offended.

The perverse ease with which people use certain words (the meanings of which they often do not fully grasp) is disconcerting because it cheapens those words. Talk may be cheap, but language isn't. The word "chic" is frequently plastered, like a universal label, on anything deemed aesthetically pleasing in the fashion/design world. I would argue that just because something is pretty, or creative, or whatever, does not make it "chic," as such. We all know that the word basically refers to something that is stylish, smart, and/or sophisticated, especially in that particular, peculiar, indefinable way that puts the "je ne sais quoi" into a certain look. Similarly, many acknowledge Audrey Hepburn as one of the most famous poster girls for the word, recognizing something in her that bespeaks "chic." However, its flexibility, elusiveness, and our common understanding of the word do not warrant its abuse, nor its overuse. Elie Saab's work is chic (it is painfully beautiful, simultaneously innovative and classic, dramatic yet refined, thoughtful, well-realized, unbelievably tasteful, and "tiré à quatre épingles"), while another designer's [insert your choice here] may not be; it may be equally beautiful, but not "chic," per se. For such a small word, "chic" has such great meaning, and while it may mean different things to different people, its integrity should still be maintained, within personal parameters, if nothing else.

I believe that the key to understanding the essence of chic lies in the fundamental difference between that which is retro/vintage, and that which is dated. Or, it can also be exemplified through the difference between that which is eternally modern, and that which will easily and quickly become dated. Chicness cannot be achieved simply by acquiring a certain skill set. I suspect it is innate and, in this way, akin to talent (it's either there, or it isn't). It is, I believe, a byproduct of one's vision, or fashion philosophy, and, to a large extent, taste level. This is why one cannot don what essentially amounts to a glorified nightgown (perhaps surreptitiously -- and misguidedly -- procured from Grandma's attic o' atrocities) and expect discerning fashionistas to hail it as a masterpiece of vintage clothing craftsmanship,... because it wasn't even chic then! Ergo, it never will be.

While the word, "chic" is often associated with modishness, I think it is more elemental and timeless than that. It is the common thread, as it were, that allows us to declare a Victorian dandy chic while simultaneously praising our fashion-forward next-door neighbor for her chicness. The times and trends may change, but in my opinion, that quality which we call "chic" transcends all boundaries. Ironically, it is this very pervasiveness and omnipresence that makes it both so specific and indefinable, rendering it a very special quality and a very special word, and therefore, meriting very special care. Giving the word "chic" such care and thought in usage and application is only appropriate, really; after all, careful thoughtfulness is one of the earmarks of all that is "chic."

- Lisette Atiyeh