Rather than meaning “effortlessly chic” — the French interpret nonchalant as an insult.

The closer word for their done-but-seemingly-undone style is insouciance, meaning careless. Or better yet, l'art de cacher l'art: the art of hiding art.

The Italians have a word for this too: sprezzatura. Funnily enough, this word is not commonly used in Italy, but ubiquitously used by the fashion world to discuss how to make a highly considered outfit appear casual and unstudied.

At some point, you’ve likely been starstruck by a woman who just seemed to have that certain je ne sais quoi. Maybe she was the fashionable girl in your college class who wore sheer sweaters with lace bras. Or a woman you saw just once at the farmer’s market carrying a basket tote. 

What makes these women feel so unattainably stylish in their perfectly attainable outfits? Is it the clothes or their attitude? That’s been the age-old question for half a century. Some people argue it’s about having the it-factor: a charm that makes people pay attention, or a star quality that is impossible to ignore. 

The it-factor has gone through several cultural re-brandings.

In the 2010s, it was all about having swag. Today, it’s about having aura. This year, though, aura is evolving into nonchalance: being intentionally vague about what you’re up to on Instagram, casually posting cringey content to TiKTok, and wearing designer clothes like the Olsen twins. For many, the trend seems less about being genuinely chic and more about performing ironic detachment—a posture that often slips into elitism.

Coachella, for example, has been a fascinating cultural study in fashion trends and digital media. In the 2010s, Vanessa Hudgens was given the title “Queen of Coachella” for her commitment to showing up to the festival in bohemian clothing. Her fringe bags, floral crowns, and crochet crop tops inspired thousands of Tumblr blogs and Seventeen Magazine features gushing over her effortless, authentic charm.

By the early 2020s, as Coachella became increasingly associated with the digital content creators who flocked to the festival, fashion shifted away from its signature bohemian aesthetic and toward logo-driven, brand-conscious looks. I don’t wish to bash anyone’s personal style, but fluorescent pink cowboy hats and sequin shorts are the kind of articles quick to get criticized by the internet. Especially when everyone is wearing the same ones from Amazon.

In classic internet fashion, the festival has been picked apart online for becoming a soulless money-making machine … one that seems less focused on music and more like something straight out of District One in The Hunger Games.

Which is why the wheels have begun to turn the other way. This year, content creators and celebrities showed up in outfits that were jarringly casual compared to their previous years of wild ensembles. Many even showed up in boho-chic looks that called back to the glory days of Tumblr’s Coachella obsession.

TikTok comments were divided, with some praising the casual attire, and others calling the shift blatantly performative.

The question persists: are we heading toward a future of individuality, or are we simply moving towards yet another area of aesthetic conformity?

I can't claim to have the answer. But I do believe that many of these content creators—and those of us watching them—have convinced ourselves that by pursuing the illusion of nonchalance in our lives, our clothes, and our social media, we're somehow escaping the performance of being a maximalist or a "basic bitch" in 2026. We aren't. If anything, the refusal to be performative becomes a performance in its own right.

For many, this trend won't produce effortless cool or quiet confidence. Instead, it risks manufacturing emotional detachment without substance and wardrobes that don't project unconventional star quality so much as a gradual erosion of individuality.

Nonchalance is not the same as self-erasure. Being nonchalant does not mean making yourself smaller.

Remember: the it factor was once an elusive quality that existed as a private exchange between the observer and the observed. But now we scroll endlessly through women who seem to possess it on our phones. We build our feeds brick by brick, saving outfits and products across every niche, each one promising to transform us into women worthy of attention. Perhaps even fame.

But do you know what’s better than being nonchalant? Being chalant: a French word meaning “to matter.” To have investment in situations. To care. To be intentional, concerned, highly expressive. I think we could all benefit from being a little more chalant in our daily lives. Not just in our clothes, but in the way we carry ourselves. 

Once this whole nonchalance thing blows over, I hope everyone starts being super chalant and super themselves. Dressing like they mean it. Posting like they mean it. Because authenticity is not the mark of sophisticated restraint — it’s a commitment to be excessively, unmistakably yourself.