Ixnay on the Ingblay-Ingblay

Upon reading my recent tirade against the many offenses of Herbert Muschamp including, among other things, his abuse of the term "bling-bling", Sarah drew my attention to the following quote from last week's New Yorker (John Seabrook's March 14 article on Dolce & Gabbana):

Gabbana walked around behind him, nodding approvingly at the fit. Then he scooped a few pieces of jewelry from the baskets of bling that were on a table behind him and draped them over the model’s chest.

A long time ago there was a song, remember that? People liked it. Then everyone discovered that it was fun to say "bling-bling", and it made them feel kind of sassy. Then their were "bling-bling" sales at the jewelry store in the local mall. That was kind of funny, maybe. Then every journalist, writer, social commentator, man on the street, woman on the street, casual conversationalist, child, and grandmother said the phrase several times. Then it was dead.

But some people haven't stopped. Apparently they don't realized that:

1. It's dead.
2. It doesn't make them sound black.
3. It's really, really dead.

So let's ask nicely:

To all journalists, writers, social commentators, men on the street, women on the street, casual conversationalists, children, and grandmothers:

Please, pretty please, stop using the phrase "bling-bling" or any of its derivatives. Thank you.

Good. That should take care of that.