Embracing Cheugy

I was almost reconciled to being Basic.

Depending on where you look Basic is almost generic. Unexciting. Plain. Unoriginal. Could mean naïve. Unsophisticated. The thing is, it’s been around for years now, since 2013, so I’m kind of used to it. Basic is practically a classic.

But now my world is rocked and I think I’m cheugy.

Pronounced CHEW-gee, it laughs at Basic. It’s another level of mean, and when I read about it (because that’s how Basic I am!) all of the signs are there: cheugy.

Cheugy has been around since 2013, too, but has now been reborn on TikTok (or Reels for the Boomers who use Facebook and have just discovered ‘Hey, honey- now there are cats on Facebook videos’) and the Gen Zs and Millennials are giving the side eye at each other.

Cheugy is being an interested fan of things that USED TO be on trend years ago, instead of things that are trending right now. I must admit: that is me all over. I read a list of the stuff that mean you are cheugy and there’s no denying it. And, as the nail that drives it home, to admit that you know you know definitely means you are a cheug (chew-g).

What has happened is that I am now woke to my interests and affections being dated. It's the differentiator: If I am out of date but not aware of it I am Basic. If I am out of date AND self-aware I am cheugy.

The more I look into this the more unfair it gets. I used to do the stuff that IS now trendy, but back then I WASN’T trendy. It’s confusing, but let me show you what I mean.

If you have a side part you are cheugy. To be on trend I need to have a center part. Like I did here, in 1978. To be on trend I need to part my hair like I did when I was in high school.

If you wear a jean jacket you are cheugy. I haven’t found a definitive answer regarding an acid-washed jean jacket with white leather fringe across the back and down the arms. I suspect it would qualify as cheugy but it is still a secret shame in my closet that I won’t give up.

Graphic tee shirts are cheugy. Add in a jean jacket and you just replicated the Old Navy email I received this morning. (I suspect the fact that I even GET an Old Navy email about six times a day already labels me cheug-like….).

Wearing Toms slip on canvas shoes is cheugy. I may be OK there, because I think I’ve found a loophole. I wear Toms-LIKE shoes, they were only $4.99 at Aldi so maybe I missed that cheug-cheug- train there.

Just when I thought I might make it out of this unscathed and remaining Basic I discovered Buzzfeed’s article (and please, even I know that makes me cheugy; reading a Buzzfeed article, I mean COME ON!)

One look down this list and I realized that I was born to cheugy. Among the 42 things are some that seem aimed directly at me are:

Golden retrievers. Too sunny and happy- must be cheugy! My favorite breed, and the only dog I've ever had, Bailey.

Flirting using GIFs. I mean, that takes away half of the texts I send to my husband if I stopped that. And it would take time! I just stopped using correct punctuation on everything I text and that has taken years to stop. Next they'll take away filters and I'll be mute.

Listening to Pentatonix is cheugy. Now, c’mon. It’s December and they have a great holiday album, there's no avoiding it! )Although, have you ever actually LISTENED to the words of ‘Hallelujah’? It is def not a holiday song, but you do you.)

Just guessing, but saying things like ‘you do you’ is probably another sign of being cheugy. Guilty.

Listening to NPR broadcasts, and wearing Birkenstocks. Here’s the problem, folks. I live in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Even though I don’t wear Birkies I am supposed to act like I should want to wear them. It's what we do here, along with eat granola and yelling 'Go Blue!'We actually have a store that sells nothing but Birkenstocks in our town. And NPR? Give it up? Please.

Let’s Take A Moment Here

Does any of this cheugy-ness really bother me? Am I alarmed that I get the newest fashions only out-of-season, or better yet at a thrift store? That trends from my high school days, like stovepipe jeans have gone in and out of style at least twice since I graduated?

Not at all.

Oh, I've gone through my own trends: I started collecting unicorns in 1978. I collected figurines of shoes, I have a collection of thimbles from states where I travelled for business and pleasure. All of these small things were amassed because they reminded my of the people, places, and events that had meaning to me. What is there to bother me there?

I have a printed paper zip-front jacket from the 70's in my closet, and a pair of black leather slacks from the 80's. Cowboy boots and a bespangled western shirt from the 90's. A renaissance faire muslin dress and overdress with a tie-front bodice that I am convinced never goes out of fashion. I crocheted a skullcap from recycled yarn and wear tie-dye at music festivals.

I am a Boomer II, born between 1955 and 1964. There were years I had either winter boots or tennis shoes, not both. Times when money was so tight that the idea of following a trend never entered my mind. I grew up in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and answered the family wall phone with 'I listen to the new sound of 13Q!' because I hoped to win a record or see a concert, just in case it was the local radio station calling our house at random.

I borrowed my best friend's dress to take that senior photo shown on that class reunion magnet; that year there were no new dresses for me. I used to trim my own hair with sewing scissors, and I sold Avon door to door to buy my own mascara and nail polish.

During my days as a bookseller I was drawn to the story of the Velveteen Rabbit. This precious toy was once pristine, with silky fur and satin-lined ears. But being loved and hugged, among other things, made him worn and looking, I suppose, not on trend. When that occurred, something amazing happened: he became real.

These days I'm comfortable in a suit, jeans and t shirt, joggers and a tunic, lace dress, or denim skirt.

I define who I am.

I am my own trend.

I have been loved, and tossed away, found again, and become comfortable with myself even though some of the newness has been worn away.

Like the Velveteen Rabbit I'm remarkable real, actually a classic, and that's just fine with me.

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