Kinda chic to be a senior
Call me weird, but I am actually looking forward to getting my senior citizen’s ID card. Apparently, reaching this milestone is considered “kinda chic,” a phrase that has become one of the most prominent social media trends of 2026.
Unsurprisingly, it began with content creators and lifestyle influencers sharing casual, unfiltered photos paired with text declaring unexceptional habits to be exceptionally fashionable. The trend quickly went mainstream, with global stars like Priyanka Chopra and Dua Lipa getting in on it, alongside our very own Anne Curtis and Heart Evangelista.
But “kinda chic” has proven to be more than a celebrity fad. Writers, marketers, designers, wellness advocates, parents, and ordinary professionals have all discovered that almost anything can be “kinda chic” if you frame it with enough confidence.
Traditionally, being “chic” suggested elegance, sophistication, and deep pockets. The “kinda chic” movement turns that idea on its head, transforming ordinary or overlooked things into deliberate lifestyle choices: staying home protects your peace, repeating outfits becomes sustainable style, a walk becomes a mindful coffee stroll, and a trip is simply something to look forward to.
These observations made me suspect that I have been accidentally fashionable all along. I have always known how to make a little go a long way, although appending captions to random photos was not a thing during my youth. My own “kinda chic” list is becoming increasingly specific.
On becoming a “dual citizen,” it is quite satisfying when the government officially acknowledges what my knees have been telling me for years. A senior card is formal recognition of the miles I have accumulated while traveling this far in life. Having celebrated enough birthdays to qualify for benefits and discounts, I have also earned the right to complain about the price of everything and assert my seniority when arguing with younger people. I intend to exploit this newfound power to the hilt.
I grew up communicating long distance through handwritten letters and rotary phones. I did my research in physical libraries where silence was sacred, and books had that earthy, comforting smell that no e-reader can replicate. I listened to static-filled AM radio for breaking news and rewatched old movies only when television networks decided to rerun them. Yet somehow, I am perfectly comfortable with smartphones, streaming platforms, social media, and whatever technological miracle launched yesterday.
I can read a printed book while scanning my laptop for tennis highlights and the latest updates about Alex Eala. My algorithm can jump from movie trailers and music videos to Max Amini and Jo Koy, then to Maxine the Fluffy Corgi and Grumpy Cat, before landing on the latest weather report or impeachment-trial news. All the while, I can have BTS, Sabrina Carpenter, Steely Dan, or Led Zeppelin playing in the background. And to be clear, I’m not some distracted Gen Xer whose attention span has been reduced to Gen Alpha levels. I’m simply adapting and keeping up with the times.
Adaptation matters. Getting older does not automatically make a person wise, just as being younger does not automatically make someone foolish. Just ask my compañeras Lorna Kapunan and Kristine Ferrer. Every generation has something valuable to teach the others, even if some insist on delivering those lessons exclusively through the comments section.
The world will keep changing regardless of what we think about it. So stay curious like George, learn what is useful, question what deserves questioning, laugh at what deserves laughter, and occasionally ask a younger person how an app works without pretending to understand the explanation.
It is kinda chic to remain engaged with life, to keep working when you want to, help when you can, learn something new, and remain genuinely curious about what is happening around you. It is kinda chic to travel simply because you can, eat well without waiting for a celebration, sing or dance as if no one is watching, and enjoy the simple pleasure of standing in the rain. It is also kinda chic to read magazines while waiting at the diagnostic clinic, solve puzzles at your own sweet pace, play mahjong with old friends while mentoring the next generation, and swim or take a walk simply because it feels good. Familiar freedoms have a funny way of becoming precious when you realize they were never guaranteed to last forever.
More importantly, it is kinda chic to have friends and family to love, and to discover that they love you back even when you are no longer productive, impressive, or useful. They love you even when you say or do things with which they disagree, even when you have nothing to offer but your company, your stories, and your imperfect self. Perhaps that is the truest definition of unconditional love: being valued not for what you do, but simply for who you are.
Maybe that is why the trend works so well. The “kinda chic” philosophy asks us to look at the mundane differently, to notice what we routinely overlook, and to appreciate what has quietly been giving our lives meaning. We spend years waiting for the world to tell us what is cool, only to discover that some of the best things have been sitting in our kitchens, on our bookshelves, in our playlists, and around our family tables all along.
Being kinda chic, it turns out, is all about feeling alive. After all, as the Irish playwright Oscar Wilde observed, “To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.” And as it turns out, there is nothing more chic than entering your senior years and finally choosing to live.
