Angela Mollard: I’m nobody’s main squeeze, and yes, I’m in a tizz over rizz

Beware of mixing old slang with new. And whatever the vintage of a buzzword, watch how you use it. Because for some, it hits different, writes Angela Mollard.

Tom Holland and his girlfriend, Zendaya. He says he doesn’t have ‘rizz’. It’s not known if he calls Zendaya his “squeeze”. Picture: Getty Images

Ok friends, what do we think of the word “squeeze”?

Not in the sense of squeezing a lemon or being squeezed for time but calling someone “my squeeze”.

I only ask because my bloke – who I might otherwise call my chap, boyfriend, beau or sweetheart depending on which he prefers at any given occasion, though not “soulmate” because I don’t believe in them – last week called me his “squeeze”.

This column was originally published in December 2023 and has been resurfaced as part of The Courier-Mail summer columnists series.

He used the term publicly which led me to ponder inwardly and voice outwardly why I loathe it. It makes me sound temporary, I argued. Insignificant.

A plaything. Certainly not befitting a grown-up who is excellent at travel logistics and possesses an unrivalled knowledge of classical literature which is employed to our mutual advantage at trivia evenings.

Ah yes, he responded, but “squeeze” is such a loving endearment. He might also have said it sounded sexy or youthful but I was too busy researching the etymology of the phrase.

Like a lot of blokes, mine respects a fact-based argument. If I was to win the squeeze stoush I needed to be armed.

Rizz-free by his own admisstion: British actor Tom Holland. Picture: AFP

My bloke was doing his regular surf patrol when I started sharing screenshots of my findings. Calling someone your squeeze, according to one British publication, “means that you are in the mindset of an elderly jokester”.

The Urban Dictionary, meanwhile, defined a “squeeze” as a girl, or guy, who is not one’s girlfriend but often has sexual relations with that person anyway.

It failed to point out that upon being branded a “squeeze” said recipient would be unlikely to engage in any sort of intimacy but that may have just been my interpretation.

Possibly because he was in the ocean rescuing some hapless non-swimmer or more likely because he hates being proved wrong, he did not respond.

So a while later, I sent a message pointing out that being called a squeeze was to be “slept on”. One thing you can be sure of with elderly jokesters is their annoyance at not being down with current slang.

Sure enough, he queried the reference. To be “slept on” means to be “ignored, overlooked or not appropriately respected”. Which he would know, I silently noted, if he was across more contemporary vernacular.

IN A TIZZ OVER RIZZ

To be fair, it’s very hard to keep up. I have not long been using “goblin mode” in reference to my bloke’s laid-back manner and style (some might say slovenly). Yet this week the phrase, nominated last year’s word of the year by Oxford University Press, has been superseded by “rizz”.

“Do I have rizz?,” I queried my daughter at breakfast, at which she fell off her stool laughing which happens far too regularly for my liking.

I casually pointed out that rizz was the OUP’s word of the year which of course led to her having to ask what OUP is so that was a quiet win for the Gen Xers. Incidentally, if your teens mock you for your uselessness with tech or current slang, it’s worth pointing out that you once taught them to use a spoon.

Moving on, it’s galling, particularly when the spinning of words is your day job, to learn that the hashtag #rizz has had 36 billion views on TikTok yet you have absolutely no idea what it means.

Apparently, it derives from “charisma” and refers to having style, charm or attractiveness and, according to my offspring, you can possess rizz or you can “rizz someone up” but you can’t be “rizzy” or a “Rizzster”. The word can be traced to a New York gamer who started using it on his Twitch stream (no, me either) in late 2021 before it made its way to TikTok and into the mouth of Spiderman actor Tom Holland who catapulted it into the Gen Z mainstream. Asked about his appeal, he said, “I have no rizz whatsoever” but that his brother had “ultimate rizz”.

BEIGE FLAG

Keen to see what someone with rizz looks like, I googled Tom’s brother and it turns out he has three called Sam, Harry and Paddy. Honestly, the young may slay and flex (please keep up) but they’re poor on specifics.

Because I want to be abreast (is that still a word?) of current slang and not at all because I want to shame my bloke for his archaic expressions, I have appraised myself of some other gems from TikTok and the OUP shortlist.

Fully lexiconed, I pointed out that he was pleasingly devoid of “beige flags” (character traits that suggest boredom or lack of originality) and that he “hits different” (appeals to me in a unique way). I was tempted to compliment his “heat dome” but this treasure from the OUP shortlist does not refer to a warm, shaved head but a weather pattern.

How lucky for him, I concluded, that I was a “canon event”, a pivotal moment that changes the course of one’s life, but that if he was to ever again to refer to me as his “squeeze” he would find himself jilted*.

*Jilted (noun, archaic): A person, especially a woman, who capriciously rejects a lover.

Originally published as Angela Mollard: I’m nobody’s main squeeze, and yes, I’m in a tizz over rizz