Cheugy

Cheugy (pronounced chew-gee)

A specialized form describing the un-cool: either (1) out of touch with current coolness and continuing to adhere to fashions or following trends which have become unfashionable or (2) trying too hard to be trendy.

2013: Coined by Gaby Rasson (b 1998) of Los Angeles, California while a student in a Beverly Hills high school although a normally reliable source (urbandictionary.com) includes the claim cheugy was “a technical term used by software engineers beginning in the mid-2000's meaning poorly maintained, damaged but narrowly functional, full of security holes, or quaintly obsolete and probably broken”.  Cheugy, cheugier & cheugist are adjectives and cheug is a noun and; the noun plural is cheugs.  Cheugyness & cheuginess have been said to exist (as non-standard noun variations of the adjective) but not all lexicographers agree cheugy or any of its derivations are “real” words although none would deny they’re slang.  The objection is that other than multiple instances of definitions and deconstructions, there’s scant evidence the word is actually in real-world use.  Most of the interest in the word seems to have been to disparage (1) those using it (rare as such folk seem to be) and (2) those who comment on those who use it (some noting the irony, some not).

Ms Rasson said she coined cheugy for the perfectly reasonable reason that the word she needed didn’t exist.  At the time, she wanted a single word descriptor for those schoolmates trying without success “to be trendy” and “…there was a missing word that was on the edge [sic] of my tongue and nothing to describe it and cheugy came to me.  How it sounded fitted the meaning.”  Ms Rasson didn’t expand on the process but it may have been a thing of phonetic association with an expression like “eww” and a word like “ugly”.  Whatever the inspiration(s), cheugy seems not to have circulated beyond the inventor’s circle of acquaintances until 2021 when it went viral in the now traditional way: appearing in a TikTok video.  In the clip, cheugy was said to be the perfect word to describe those who posted TikTok videos in hopes of being thought cool or edgy but whose content was just cringeworthy (cringey in TicTok talk).  By mid-May #cheugy had gained over 10 million views, trending on Twitter within a year and clearly feeling proprietorial, Ms Rasson tweeted that she’d “…decided to do the cheugiest thing possible and make an NFT out of the word cheugy”, entreating “place your bids cheugs.”

The Gucci Double-G belt appears on most lists of cheugy stuff.

Similar terms of derision had before existed in slang (basic, normie et al) but they didn’t convey quite the same thing so, as long as it attains critical mass, cheugy might find a niche.  It’s too soon to tell whether the word will survive in democratic, unforgiving English but there’s definitely a cheugy aesthetic or, more correctly, a number of lists of the practices, preferences and proclivities of others judged to be cheugy.  The lists were presumably predictable to those immersed in the minutiae of such things and perhaps baffling to others.  More interesting was that cheuginess appeared to be (1) a weaponized label with which GenZ and the millennials could exchange cultural blows and (2) another way to disparage women, an arsenal already large.  There will be obsessives who will read the lists and worry but it’s hard to take seriously any list which condemns lasagna.

A thousand years shall pass and lasagna will never be cheugy.

It didn’t take long for the zeitgeisters wearily to observe that the very spike in the use of cheugy meant it had itself become cheugy, enjoying a brief, shining moment of newness, before becoming dated.  In linguistics the process is known as "the snake eating its tail", a fate which the coiner of "bedint" noted was probably the fate of his creation.  Technically then, cheugy is an auto-antonym or contronym, a word with multiple meanings, one of which is defined as the reverse of one of its other meanings (a phenomenon which in structural linguistics is called enantiosemy, enantionymy or antilogy).  The common way of expressing this is “Janus word”, the name derived from Roman mythology, Janus a god of doorways (and thus also of beginnings), and of the rising and setting of the sun, usually represented as having one head with two bearded faces back to back, looking in opposite directions, historically understood as the past and the future (and adopted in linguistics to describe a word with two, opposed meanings).  Still, the word is there to be used and, some cheugs being more cheugistic than others, the comparative is "more cheugy" (or cheugier) and the superlative "most cheugy" (or cheugiest).

Cheugy has "happened" but may or may not become embedded in English, something which relies on sustained use by a critical mass.  The size of the mass can vary, some embedded words used by a relatively small sub-set while other innovations (like "okay") are more widely adopted, sometimes even beyond English.  Fetch never happened (Mean Girls (2004)) although, as a convenient clipping of “fetching” (usually in the form quite fetching or very fetching and meaning “charming; captivating; compelling”), it might have had "fetching" not already having descended into the category of "dated".  By the early twenty-first century, "fetching" wasn't cheugy because it was so rare.

Bedint

Bedint (pronounced buh-dent (U) or bed-ent (non-U))

(1) Something which suggests a bourgeois aspiration to the tastes or habits of the upper classes.

(2) A generalized expression of disapproval of anyone or anything not in accord with the social standards or expectation of the upper classes.

(3) Any behavior thought inappropriate (ie something of which one for whatever reason disapproves).

1920s:  A coining attributed to variously to (1) English writer and diplomat Harold Nicolson (1886–1968), (2) his wife, the writer Vita Sackville-West (1892–1962) or (3) speculatively, Vita Sackville-West’s family.  The word is of Germanic origin and although there are variants, a common source is the Middle Dutch bedienen, the construct being be- +‎ dienen.  The Middle Dutch be- was from the Old Dutch bi- & be-, from the Middle High German be-, from the Old High German bi-, from the Proto-Germanic bi-, from the primitive Indo-European hepi and was used to indicate a verb is acting on a direct object.  Dienen was from the Middle Dutch dienen, from the Old Dutch thienon, from the Proto-Germanic þewanōną and meant “to be of assistance to, to serve; to serve (at a tavern or restaurant); to operate (a device).  In the rituals of the Roman Catholic Church, it has the specific technical meaning of “to administer the last sacraments (the last rites).  A bedient (the second third-person singular present indicative of bedienen) was thus a servant, a waiter etc.  The acceptable pronunciation is buh-dent, bed-int, be-dit or anything is the depth of bedintism. 

The idea thus is exemplified by a maître d'hôtel (the head waiter in a good restaurant) who, well dressed and well mannered, appears superficially not dissimilar to someone from the upper classes but of course is someone from a lower class, adopting for professional reasons, some of their characteristics (dress, manner, speech (and sometimes snobbery) etc).  Whoever coined the word, it was certainly popularized by Harold Nicholson and Vita Sackville-West.  It seems initially to have been their shared code for discussing such things but soon became common currency amongst the smart set in which they moved and from there, eventually entered the language although not all dictionaries acknowledge its existence.  It one of those words which need not be taken too seriously and is most fun to use if played with a bit (bedintish, bedintesque, bedintingly bedinded, bedintism, bedintology et al).  As a word, although from day one weaponized, bedint was subject to some mission-creep to the point where, as Lewis Carol’s Humpty Dumpty explained to Alice: "When I use a word," Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, "it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less."  Humpty Dumpty to Alice in Alice Through the Looking-Glass (1871) by Lewis Carroll (1832–1898).

Harold Nicolson & Vita-Sackville West, London, 1913.

As originally used by Nicolson & Sackville-West, bedint, one the many linguistic tools of exclusion and snobbery (and these devices exist among all social classes, some of which are classified as “inverted snobbery” when part of “working-class consciousness” or similar constructs) was used to refer to anyone not from the upper class (royalty, the aristocracy, the gentry) in some way aping the behavior or manners of “their betters”; the behavior need not be gauche or inappropriate, just that of someone “not one of us”.  Nicolson didn’t exclude himself from his own critique and, as one who “married up” into the socially superior Sackville family, was his whole life acutely aware of what behaviors of his might be thought bedint, self-labelling as he thought he deserved.  His marriage he never thought at all bedint although many of those he condemned as bedint would have found it scandalously odd, however happy the diaries of both parties suggest that for almost fifty years it was.

Harold Nicolson & Vita-Sackville West, Sissinghurst Castle Garden, Kent, 1932.

Bedint as a word proved so useful however that it came to be applied to members of the upper classes (even royalty) were they thought guilty of some transgression (like dullness) or hobbies thought insufficiently aristocratic.  The idea of some behavior not befitting one’s social status was thus still a thread but by the post-war years, when bedint had entered vocabulary of the middle-class (a bedint thing in itself one presumes Nicolson and Sackville-West would have thought), it was sometimes little more than a synonym for bad behavior (poor form as they might have said), just an expression of disapproval.

Harold Nicolson & Vita-Sackville West, Sissinghurst Castle Garden, Kent, 1960.

The biographical work on Nicolson reveals a not especially likable snob but, in common with many fine and sharp-eyed diarists, he seems to have been good company though perhaps best enjoyed in small doses.  One of those figures (with which English political life is studded) remembered principally for having been almost a successful politician, almost a great writer or almost a viceroy, he even managed to be almost a lord but despite switching party allegiances to curry favor with the Labour government (1945-1951), the longed-for peerage was never offered and he was compelled to accept a knighthood.  His KCVO (Knight Commander of the Royal Victorian Order, an honor in the personal gift of the sovereign) was granted in 1953 in thanks for his generous (though well-reviewed and received) biography of King George V (1865-1936, King of England 1910-1936), although those who could read between the lines found it not hard to work out which of the rather dull monarch’s activities the author thought bedint.  As it was, Nicolson took his KCVO, several steps down the ladder of the Order of Precedence, accepting it only "faute de mieux" (in the absence of anything better) and describing it “a bedint knighthood”, wondering if, given the shame, he should resign from his clubs.

Wedding day: Duff Cooper & Lady Diana Manners, St Margaret's Church, London, 2 June 1919.

So a knighthood, a thing which many have craved, can be bedint if it's not the right knighthood.  When the Tory politician Duff Cooper (1890–1954) ended his term (1944-1948) as the UK's ambassador to France, the Labor government (which had kept him on) granted him a GCMG (Knight Grand Commander of the order of St Michael & St George) and although he thought his years as a cabinet minister might have warranted a peerage, he accepted while wryly noting in his diary it was hardly something for which he should  be congratulated because: "No ambassador in Paris has ever failed to acquire the it since the order was invented and the Foreign Office has shown how much importance they attach to it by conferring it simultaneously on my successor Oliver Harvey (1893-1968), who is, I suppose, the least distinguished man who has ever been appointed to the post".  Still, Cooper took his "bedint" GCMG and when a Tory government returned to office, he was raised to the peerage, shortly before his death, choosing to be styled Viscount Norwich of Aldwick.  His wife (Lady Diana Cooper (1892–1986) didn't fancy becoming "Lady Norwich" because she though it "sounded like porridge" and took the precaution of placing notices in The Times and Daily Telegraph telling all who mattered she would continue to be styled "Lady Diana Cooper".  They had a "modern marriage" so differences between them were not unusual.