What’s with the desperate search for “our adjectives”?
— and BTW, are we CMC?
— and BTW, are we CMC?
I remember when I first found my friend Rose (@thecreativeclassicist on IG) and saw she was exploring “her adjectives” in her highlights. And I felt an instant connection. I’m always exploring my adjectives and others’.
In my work, everything starts with a brand DNA, and the core of this work is 3–5 adjectives, working together. Why? A brand has to know who it is before it can project a clear story the world and efficiently make day-to-day decisions with ease.
On IG and lately Tik Tok there’s been this huge drive to “find your adjectives” among influencers. I don’t know if it started with Amy Smilovic but she’s certainly and smartly making a huge impact with it, one that began with her COVID-originated IG Lives, called “Style Class” (book forthcoming). In them, she defined her adjectives and the adjectives of the Tibi customer (the “Creative Pragmatist”) as chill modern classic or CMC.
Why the adjective fixation tho?
But wait — let’s get a little more bird’s eye first. Like, why? Why the intense desire to nail these adjectives? I can’t speak for others, but for me, the desire is so pressing because it’s not really about clothes.
It’s really just stand-in for the desire to know yourself.
And I suppose it’s especially pressing right now, in a moment where in spite of being more settled and confident than I ever was, in some ways I feel as off kilter as a teenager. I sent my son to college, which broke my heart, and then broke it again when he bounced back out, unsure of his next move. And then there are my hormones. My insane fucking hormones. Tearier than ever. Broken out. I remember virtually nothing. I feel untethered — which is equal parts freeing and unnerving. The best of times and the worst of times.
I want to know myself. I want the soothing expression and armor and knowing of wearing clothes that feel like me. And maybe help nudge me into greater certainty in this new unsettled-for-now era.
Chill modern classic — not!
So back to Amy and Style Class. The first thing I did after discovering and bingeing it (in spite of slavishly adoring Amy and falling in love with Tibi all over again), was “buck the hypo.” It’s a term from law school (let’s not go there). But it’s about fighting what’s in front of you rather than accepting it for the purpose it serves and using it as a tool to explore.
I bucked the CMC hypo. My first thought was “I can’t be chill.” Here’s why:
I’m not cool. I laugh at my own jokes. I’m middle aged (I’m good with this but I am! And what’s worse than a middle aged person trying to be cool?) “Chill out, mom.” Far more likely to be spoken than, “S’up, chill mom?”
My style is often the opposite of relaxed — like what about the structured ball skirts I love? What about the neon brights? The sequins and sparkle?
3. I can’t look like I’m not trying — I love trying. I’ve always been a try- harder.
Onto “modern.” That word is a definite yes for me. One lesson I already learned and feel very secure in is that I can no longer wear old fashioned clothes with irony at 50. That’s territory I’ve covered.
But then we come to “classic.” Ugh, I hate that word. Classic to me sounds like all the preppy clothes I wore as a chubby seventh grader. Classic sounds like New England, where I often feel judged. It sounds like country clubs and prejudice and basically so much yuck. In short, it’s a no for me.
So no I could not be an Amy girl. Onto the next.
The Three Word Method
Rose isn’t just an Amyphile, she’s a font of information. And she also reintroduced me to Allison Bornstein, a stylist I’d found on Youtube but whose own style I didn’t relate to so I’d moved on. Specifically, Rose went on TikTok and started exploring Allison’s three word method. Allison distills personal style down to three pretty specific words for each person. Making it really accessible. For example, Mary Kate Olsen’s three words are oversized, refined, undone.
What I love about this is the way it illuminates the magical tensions that make style good. (Amy, too, talks about these tensions; aka “the good friction.”) Like oversized and undone are in such opposition to “refined.” That’s where the magic happens. This I’m sure is a helpful tool for so many. But what it’s missing for me is that I want to relate style and these words to something bigger picture, something in how I feel. “Chill” may not be me, but it’s a way you can feel. “Oversized” is not. It’s like the difference in advertising between a concept and an execution. Since I use style as a tool to feel comfortable in my skin and evolve who I am, I want this filter of words to be bigger and more meaningful. I crave emotional not just tactical.
Answer Honestly + Brand DNA
Interestingly “emotional impact” is what I often find missing when clients come to me because their brands aren’t resonating. So I had an aha moment. Why can’t I do for myself what I do for my clients? That is develop a series of targeted questions (I call this process Answer Honestly) that drive towards sets of adjectives. Analyze and break apart and cull those to suss out the overlaps at the heart of them, the true essence of what the brand wants to be. Distill and distill until there are just 3 to 5 adjectives and the tensions between them. And that is the core of your brand.
Here’s how I sketched it out and then shared the approach on my insta:
(1) Answer these questions
6 adjectives that describe the style you aspire to
The last outfit you felt totally yourself in, 6 adjectives to describe it
6 things you don’t want your style to be; then write the antonym of each
Someone whose style you admire and feel is or could be you — 6 adjectives to describe their style
(2) List across a piece of paper every adjective that’s a new thought
(3) Stack any same thoughts underneath each other.
(4) Evaluate: Your 3 biggest stacks are your 3 style words
(5) If there are outliers, they probably fit under one of the 3– for example “mannish” isn’t a real DNA word for me. I don’t try and look mannish. In fact I try and look “unexpected” and traditionally mannish pieces are one of the ways I do this.
(6) Order your words based on which stacks the longest; that’s your lead word.
I tried it and arrived at modern (aware of what’s going on; not dowdy) unexpected (tensions, twists) and optimistic. This was pretty good. Especially the optimistic. That’s where I differ from the cool girls wearing all black, a Yankees cap, a Chanel bag. That can be fresh and unexpected. That can look modern and part of what’s happening right now. But it’s too stand-back-and-be-cool versus what feels like me — sunny. Joyful. Ok. Except. Why (I mean besides the obvious reason; I’m 52) did I keep forgetting my words?
Miami King, or Mrs. MadLibs
Ok are you still awake? (My husband is not, FYI.) Then I went back to something I was mulling earlier, this idea of Drama King.
This came out of something I was just playing around with at a family dinner one night. A little spontaneous game of trying to see if we could distill style into two words. I came up with “drama king.” Drama encompasses the unexpected. And in a way, the optimism. “King” encompasses what I have called mannishness, how I love unsexy elements or what were once traditionally men’s pieces — suiting, loafers etc. To kind of calm down the other parts. Plus “king” has a sense of fun and confidence, like saying “king me” in checkers.
But you know, I kept misremembering this self-made moniker as “Miami King.” And I realize that’s because Miami is really a shorthand for drama. Honestly. Look around the next time you’re there. The tricked out cars with custom paint jobs. The men in full on matching silk pajama sets in the Design District at noon. The casual alligator appearing on a doorstep. The whole place is full of drama! It’s why I feel more comfortable with my recent move there than anywhere I’ve ever lived. It’s why I finally feel an alignment in my heart with a city ala SJP’s New York. Miami King is easy for me to remember, impossible to forget, really. And it speaks to my soul.
Incidentally, the two-word monikers I gave my sisters-in-law the night we played this impromptu game also included place names —SoCal Athletic and Malibu Bohemian. I wonder if
place you feel most you + aligned person type
isn’t some kind of formula in and of itself. Crisp, easy to remember, easy to use as a filter, lots of emotional heft. I’m calling it Mrs. Madlibs. Give it a try. This is where I am today and it gives me a lot of satisfaction.
And now back to Amy.
As I dug deeper and deeper while telling myself — I’m so not chill! I’m so not classic! I’m a dork and a progressive! I started looking more closely how CMC is deployed.
Ok, first — it’s not one size fits all. You can be CMC but be different because we all have different modifiers. Like Amy’s is “humor.” I would argue Rose’s is polished. So, I could be CMC but bold or dramatic. I can be bold in a chilled way. That makes sense. I don’t wear tight neon bandage skirts. I wear, say, long slouchy neon coats (see above). Actually, let’s say my modifier is “Miami.” You good with that, Amy?
And then also, as she put it on one of these lives: “And any given time you want to have on your body something that is chill, something that is modern and something that is classic.”
That means I don’t have to BE each (or any) of these things. It’s about pulling them together as style elements to create tension. The classic (this is my “king”) brings tension to “modern,” juxtaposing it with some heritage element so it’s not wildly out there. The “chill” is also king, it’s the ease that keeps the fit from being that body-con-Barbie vibe. And the “modern” is that reminder not to go classic all the way, not to let it all get too lady. To keep it ageless, interesting and aware.
The truth is, I am a Creative Pragmatist ala Amy. I’m CMC with the modifier “Miami” (dialed down during my New England summers). I choose to call my style Miami King. At least for now.
How about you?