“This was a time when the true signs of war were the lavish plumage of the women; Fifth Avenue dress shops and the finer restaurants were filled with these vanguards of war. Look at the jewels, the rare pelts, the gaudy birds on elaborate hair-dress and know that war was here; already the women had inherited the earth.”
He who lets himself be whored by fashion will be whored by time.
It’s not slang that bothers me, as it does so many oldsters, nor is it even all the LOLzy net-speak that threatens to make spelling the new cursive writing. It’s the inflation of language and devaluing of expression, and the considerable role of fashion in that. It’s the dread ubiquity, the absurd-making via thoughtless repetition, of truly essential irreplaceable words like “beautiful” and “glamour” and “perfect” and “love” and “need” and “hate” and “want.” Invented words, neologisms, portmanteaus: those aren’t the threat to language. Rather, they can protect language by giving new words to new ideas or whims, thus saving from bastardization and overuse the old and endangered and best (here I swear I do mean best) words. Some words cannot be permitted to become cliches of style, void of truth.