The word chic wants to go to rehab

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This just in: the word ‘chic’ is one weary mot. These days, you can’t read a sentence without running into it. Along with being the au courant adjective for all things fashionable, ‘chic’ has become the unwitting and undignified alternative to S*#@, as in ‘Chic happens’ or ‘What a pile of chic!’

I am saddened to report that the word wants out. Out of the dictionary, out of the argot of snippy home decorators and skinny magazine editors. Out of the Lucky magazine campaign that announces: ‘Chic meets Street.’ Even out of this blog, alas. In a prepared statement, the word passed along this message to its devout followers:

Dear people who use words,

If a language can die and a species can become extinct, I hope that I, a mere one-syllable expression with a French origin, can be allowed to rest a bit. The crazy parties, the tongue in cheek headlines, it’s all too much. Whereas I was once the definitive utterance to convey something stylish and unique, I am now ubiquitous and bloated. I don’t want to end up like ‘bling.’

I ask that you respect my wishes for privacy during this troubled time.

Many thanks,

Chic