Modish

Usage examples of chic.

Police SWAT teams in chic basic black accessorized with tear gas and semiautomatic weapons are charging in past the doorman holding the door in his gold braid.

A classic spree of youthful dynamism after his last rejuvenation had made him choose a visible pattern, stylish and chic in those days.

In Europe, Tom gathered, inadequate heating was a hallmark of chic in winter, like the iceless martini in summer.

He was the type of man to go for an exotic butterfly like Monique Von Rutter or a ruthlessly chic Englishwoman like Madame Lambert.

Came knocking at my door in all your foul, cool, chic of designer jeans and leather blouson and your pocket stuffed with G.

She was wearing unisex black cotton pants and a black blouse buttoned over the neck, black boots, belt, coat -- homeless chic -- and she looked good.

He sure knew better than to say that, because his second mistake had been to innocently agree that Veronique was chic--whatever the hell chic meant.

All of a sudden Vive found herself taking rifter chic very seriously indeed.

Police SWAT teams in chic basic black accessorized with tear gas and semiautomatic weapons are charging in past the doorman holding the door in his gold braid.

Like the black teenage burglars who are terrorizing chic Georgetown these days, Nixon conquered so easily that he soon lost any fear of being caught.

Two days later there was another visitor Christabel, a cool, chic vision in white, laden with grapes and hot-house flowers and a pile of magazines.

In these moods he sometimes designed elevations of buildings, very striking, very original, very chic, very everything but habitable.

Remember the Twenty-six Commissars of Baku, I thought grimly, as my virtual leather jacket and trousers -- Bolshevik chic -- creaked around me.

They walked down to Old Compton Street, on the edge of Soho, where the tawdry and the chic sit side by side to the benefit of both, and they ate at La Reache, filling up on couscous and dozens of marvelous plates of exotic food, which covered their table and spilled over onto an unused table nearby, and they walked from there to a small pub Sylvia liked in nearby Berwick Street, and they had a few drinks, and they chatted.

Now it was a tangle of riotous growth, a jungle where plants and autotrophs from myriad worlds had broken out of their assigned places, curling round the disap pearing latticework, intermingling in a bedlam of anar chic biogenesis.