“what is chic is just to be perfect, like magical, no?” // c. roitfeld
i looked across my enormous bowl of pasta in search of a piece of bread the other day, to instead be caught by the view of one of my most favourite people – she of mixed patterns, and deep-sea blue blouses with one shoulder an arabesque of fabric, and sparkled ferragamos; and realized she is the very definition of a word that is oft used, but rarely properly dispensed.
the meaning sullied, it’s the very reason i don’t use the word chic very often – and when i do, it’s usually doled out to be rather tongue-in-cheek. i called her that the other day and could hardly pronounce it, it sounded so foreign coming out of my mouth, but i meant it in earnest.
and then it dawned on me – it’s not about fashion is it? style rarely is; being chic is about a certain kind of magic. an alchemy of fearlessness, a certain joy, and a spirit that can see past the clothes and embody a person.
➝ source : flat clutch via clare vivier
➝ source : adele skirt via vivetta