(I speak, you speak, we all speak...FASHION!!)
They say (sigh?) that regional dialects are dying out, thanks to Hollywood creep and the ever-expanding tentacles of the World Wide Web. But as every serious fashionista knows, they be wrong (note: that works best if you say it in a bumpkin accent like an extra from Midsomer Murders). There might be fewer Yorkshire souls yapping on about putting wood in t'ole and there being nowt so queer a' folk, but clique-alects rule okay in elite circles.
It's nigh on impossible to understand what the f’row is saying half the time ("f’row" = front row...don’t you read Grazia? Hello?!) but happily I’m here to help by acting as interpreter via this regular new post, which will be published first on my favourite magazine blog, Erica Bartle's Girl With A Satchel. I’ll be decoding le fashion speak regularly in the hope that karma's gonna get me…a Phoebe Philo for Celine jacket for Christmas. Capiche? Stay with me. I hereby launch, Chictionary. Ta-da!
F’row Word of the Fortnight
Nonvin (non-van) adj., Derog. 1. Denotes a fashion crime; something ugly, hideous, shockingly off trend. Literally, to be a long way indeed from the work of revered French fashion house of Lanvin [currently headed up by one Alber Elbaz, A.K.A. le chicest homme alive].
In conversation. Hints and tips for daily use:
On seeing a short and scary frock covered in alarming plastic bling as sewn in Bali, Fashionista 1 says, "Ouch! Plastic, c'est pas chic!”
Fashionista 2 replies, “Eiuw! I know. That is so Nonvin!"