To chic or not to chic? That’s the existential style crisis plaguing TikTok right now. Or more specifically—are you actually chic, or just clinging to a label we’ve all been conditioned to crave since our eyeballs first locked onto Vogue covers and Sex and the City reruns?
Enter: Creator Tara Colleen, who flung herself into the internet’s burning chic discourse with a video titled “things I find incredibly unchic… part 1.” It was snarky. It was subjective. It was judgmental in the way only the Clock App can reward. Tara’s commentary, which redlined anything from visible logos to Lululemon leggings, didn’t just ruffle feathers—it detonated a style grenade in the TikTok trenches.
TikTok’s Battle of the Chic
Tara, sipping ginger ale from a wine glass like the patron saint of petty, declared things like Golden Goose sneakers, visible tattoos, and Louis Vuitton Neverfull bags to be utterly unchic. “Money talks, wealth whispers,” she quipped, while verbally side-eyeing what she dubbed the “stay-at-home mum starter kit.”
The irony wasn’t lost on TikTokers. Especially @shansclosefriends, who pointed out the hypocrisy of Tara calling out VPLs (visible panty lines) while letting her bra strap roam free like it paid rent. “Girl, the call is coming from inside the house,” she deadpanned.
The video didn’t just invite disagreement—it sparked a content format: the “Things I Find Chic” and “Unchic Things I’ll Die On A Hill For” genre now flooding timelines. Tara’s mentions became a battlefield. “Taxidermy is unchic,” someone wrote, referencing the deer head mounted in her backdrop. Another added, “Judging strangers online? Peak unchic.”
The Price of Chicness
Tara’s follow-up only fanned the flames. She defended her take by implying that items like the Neverfull bag are no longer chic simply because they’re too accessible. “It’s not that I couldn’t afford it,” she said. “It’s just not special anymore.”
And this is where things get layered. Is chic about exclusivity? Income? Knowing which It Girl trend cycle we’re in—Clean Girl, Pilates Princess, Mob Wife—and playing the game just right?
Or is it something more elusive, more innate?
What Even Is Chic?
“Chic” didn’t always mean stylish. It comes from the French word chicanery, meaning trickery or sophistry. How fitting, then, that it evolved into a word we now throw around to denote taste, elegance, and effortlessness. A term birthed from aesthetic deception is now a gold standard.
The word wormed its way from Paris to pop culture, eventually finding home in the mouths of icons like Brigitte Bardot, Sophia Loren, and Naomi Campbell. In the ’90s, Naomi redefined chic on her own terms—alongside Kate and Linda—proving that elegance wasn’t a one-size-fits-all export from France. And now? Chic is just as likely to be defined by a TikTok comment as by Anna Wintour’s smize.
Chic ≠ Expensive
The democratization of fashion has shifted the conversation. Chic isn’t about dripping in designer labels—it’s about how you wear what you wear. You can be head-to-toe Zara and still eat someone’s Chanel look for brunch. As one TikToker so aptly put it: “Style is earned, not bought.”
Sure, there are things that will never be chic (looking at you, red MAGA hat), but chic is now more vibe than wardrobe. Armpit stains? Human. Printed tank tops from 2011? Nostalgic. Visible panty lines? Maybe they’re the new edge. Being chic isn’t about erasing the mess of real life—it’s about styling your chaos into something that looks intentional.
As the Countess Luann once sang: Chic c’est la vie. And maybe the most chic thing of all is not giving a damn what the internet thinks.
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