November 3, 2013 chick flick, chick magnet
chick flick (1990’s | journalese | “tearjerker,” “movie pitched at women”)
chick magnet (2000’s | “something that draws the ladies,” “Adonis”)
These two phrases came along at about the same time — the mid-nineties — and both seem to reflect Commonwealth influence. The case is especially clear for “chick magnet,” which appeared almost exclusively in Australian, British, and Canadian sources until 2000 or so, and remains more common there to this day, according to LexisNexis. “Chick flick” started out at about the same frequency in the U.S. as in other Anglophone countries. It took a few years for “chick flick” to settle as the invariable term (Phrase Finder has a good history). In “Sleepless in Seattle” (1993), Tom Hanks uses the phrase “chick’s movie,” and variants with and without the possessive could all be heard for a few years there. “Chick magnet” never experienced the same flux in form beyond the odd apostrophe-s, but it could (and can) mean different things. One: A person (generally a man) unusually attractive to women. (You might prefer not to be reminded, but “chick magnet” became a minor epithet — as opposed to all the major epithets — for Bill Clinton during the Lewinsky scandal.) Two: a creature that attracts women (e.g., “Get a dog. They’re real chick magnets.”) Three: an object that attracts women. My girlfriend’s daughter showed me a “vine” (ten-second YouTube video) in which a teen-age boy calls a Lamborghini “a real chick magnet.” My sense is that when the term first slipped into the language, the first usage predominated. Now I think the second and third have overtaken it, but all three are still available.
A “chick flick” denotes a film designed to appeal to a specifically female audience; that is, to attract a more abstract population of millions of women rather than the handful of women hanging around the park, or the bar, at any given time. Chick flicks may rely on weepy or Harlequin Romance clichés to do their work, but they may also draw their effectiveness from strong women characters that crowd out or overshadow the men. (“Thelma and Louise” and “A League of Their Own,” both released near the dawn of the chick-flick era, did not send women flocking to the cinema because they were fuzzy, heartwarming stories with lots of muscular men with hearts of gold.) The very strong implication is that the men in the audience are also crowded out. We’d rather go watch James Bond or Jim Carrey. Confession: I loved “Dumb and Dumber.” Out of character, I hope, but I cannot tell a lie.
The real question here is how did “chick,” a word already unpleasantly musty and at least vaguely insulting when I was a kid, worm its way back into our vocabulary? If these phrases really did arise in England and Australia, it may be the word was less ominous over there. I believe “chick” used to mean girl or woman is primarily a U.S. locution that had its moment in the sun in the early and mid-twentieth century — it’s tempting to suggest that it descends from W.C. Fields’s primordial “chickadee,” but that’s pure folk etymology, and I abjure it in the absence of evidence. By the time “chick flick” and “chick magnet” came along, it had been at least a generation since discreet people stopped using “chick” that way, and no doubt it had lost most of its sting. But I don’t hear adults calling women “chicks” even now, except maybe jocularly, and if kids do it today, it’s retro-slang. Now this may be a simple case of hipster irony taking an old word or concept, bending it a bit, and breathing new life into it (“chick lit” is a related example). It is not an example of an oppressed minority twisting a term of contempt into a proud epithet, however. (At least, I don’t think so; here’s another point of view.) Women may use these phrases (particularly “chick flick”), but they did not arise among women or feminists. A recent movie and video game both used “Chick Magnet” as the title, and both exemplify the purest male fantasy about effortless sexual conquest. The recrudescence of “chick” does not strike me as harmless; the forces of degradation never sleep, and lots of people (not all of them men) continue to resent the gains women have made in the last fifty years. And if “broad” starts to sneak back into the language in the guise of lighthearted cultural commentary, you’ll know I’m right.