Notes on Chic

Things I find chic Part I

Something has been a lingering persistence in my life for many years and recently has shaped into a separate niche in my life that helps me stay afloat in the moments of both low spirits and exceeding walking-on-air states. The name to this is chic.

It is quite a separate notion, something that drifts in the margins between beauty, style, elegance and effortlessness. And probably a ton of other things I’m now failing to grasp to my and my reader’s satisfaction.

According to Cambridge dictionary chic means:

stylish and fashionable

if it’s an adjective or

the quality of being stylish and fashionable

if it’s a noun.

To be sure. However I feel that chic means so much more. At least in the way I use this word and I heard (and read) many other people use this word.

So what is chic anyway?

I do not believe I am up to the task of answering this question just now. I have a strong suspicion that I will need to write many an essay and have many a conversation on the topic before I am able to adequately approach the it.

By no means trying to flatter myself with the comparison to Susan Sontag, I want to mention her approach in the quality of my mentor and role model in some ways. To mind comes her essay Notes on Camp.

Her opening paragraph goes like this:

Many things in the world have not been named;* and many things, even if they have been named, have never been described. One of these is the sensibility — unmistakably modern, a variant of sophistication but hardly identical with it — that goes by the cult name of “Camp”.

* Here I can’t refrain from laughing out loud while spotting the semi-colon and the em-dash — if Susan Sontag were alive and writing now, she might have run the risk of being accused of using the aid of Chat-GPT in her writing!

Now laughing matters aside, Sontag’s onset isn’t a promise of clearing up the term, merely a description of its nature and a hint of its possible applications. Further on she shatters any hope of a reader to get a straightforward definition for camp.

To talk about Camp is to betray it.

But talk she will because in her own words:

I am strongly drawn to Camp, and almost as strongly offended by it. That is why I want to talk about it and why I will.

Why am I referencing her so much in my essay? Because, possibly in a very naive fashion, I believe that I feel about the phenomenon of chic in a similar way she felt about camp.

By no means do I want to compare their essences, for it would be foolish and most unproductive, I would, however not shun from drawing parallels in terms of their undefinable nature. By undefinable I mean that as one attempts to capture one or two of their features, the other ones escape the definer’s attention, like water through fingers.

Therefore I suggest to stare but at a small puddle accessible to view in a particular moment.

To shape my understanding of chic better I decided to approach the notion by means of induction method. To start with examples and draw my conclusion from them.

So, as an etude number one on my long journey to define chic, here is the first list of things I consider chic. In no particular order:

• carrying a book around with you, to all places, no place is unsuitable for a book;

• listening without interruption and only asking questions when a person is done talking;

• taking notes by writing in a notebook (for studying, writing down ideas, shopping lists, etc.);

• listening to Patty Smith and deconstructing her lyrics;

• taking your coffee slowly, deliberately, while reading, listening to music or simply staring out the window but always paying attention to every sip;

• learning to cook at least one dish perfectly well;

  

  

• having a list of favourite books, movies, music (a top 3 or 5 that you know do it for you every single time and you can name them at the top of your head — preferably reviewed every 5 years or so, because our tastes evolve);

• being able to take decent photos;

• choosing thoughtful gifts;

• remembering important dates for your close people and celebrating them;

• wearing scarves tastefully;

• being always on time;

• offering your help and meaning it;

• being off your phone during conversations and meals;

• knowing the city you live in decently well, at least your neighbourhood and the environs of your favourite spots;

• looking up the route before you embark on it, not relying on digital maps unless you have to;

• niche perfumes;

• not judging people or at least not jumping to conclusions without making an effort to know their side of the story;

• interacting with waiters, shop assistants and other stuff in a friendly way;

• beautiful personalised handbags;

• pausing to look at the view wherever and whenever you are;

• smiling often;

• looking up words in the dictionary (online one counts too);

• having a skill you practise only because you enjoy it, not necessarily for “practical” reasons;

  

  

• playing vinyl records;

• being a professional in your sphere;

• making conversation with anyone;

• taking photos, writing down things, making sketches just because you want to, without a promise or obligation;

Now this list might seem chaotic or not full, to some basic, to others pretentious and to someone even plain nonsense. I am aware that some items on this list are basic curtesies or blatantly obvious to some people, while unnecessary to others. This is exactly the point.

Being chic is not a luxury, neither it is a necessity. For now all I am prepared to say is that being chic is second nature to some people. It doesn’t make them better or more important than others, just makes them different in the same way that everyone is different.