Such a fascinating expression.
First, the sound : effortlessly chic, the blowing, whistling, deceptively langourous first four syllables, and then, like an exclamation point, the final bang of the chic, a word clever enough to draw a smile on the face of whoever pronounces it…
Then, the meaning : to me, being chic would already be a lot to achieve, and I can’t understand how to do it wihout any effort. Even supposedly ‘tried & true’ formulas seem difficult to me : how can you be sure you little black dress won’t have any plush on it? that the white shirt will fit properly on your shoulders, that it won’t be see-through, that there will be no gap at the bust? that the basic trench coat won’t crease, and that I will close the belt elegantly? Not to mention the never-lasting eye-liner, the chignon turning into a mane at eleven in the morning, the necklace whose clasp always seems to be on the front… I can’t help thinking that, behind the Sartorialist‘s smart amazons, there is a lot of reflection, anticipation, techniques, tips and tricks, know-how, experience : in short, a lot of work.
And yet, to be effective, all this work has to be overcome by delicately swaying your head, by a vague dance step, a gentle smile : a light, relaxed attitude. Effortlessly chic : when thinking of this expression, I feel like the draft of a girl.
