What's the French for clump?
THERE are times when modern behaviour races ahead of modern language.
THERE are times when modern behaviour races ahead of modern language.
What, for example, do you call the partner of your gay son or daughter? Boyfriend or girlfriend seems a tad twee. And until gay marriage is legalised (which surely can't be too far away), I don't see how son or daughter-in-law can legitimately be used.
I have never liked the term partner to describe an intimate other. Hmmm, what do you think about Intimate Other? The problem here is that the basis to the relationship, intimacy, is front and centre.
Although when you think about it no one worries about being introduced as a workmate, which also showcases the basis to the relationship.
Somehow I cannot see the term bedmate ever getting currency. And lover is just so completely in your face.
That cute French couple fiance and fiancee require commitment but, in fact, many modern cohabiting couples may not be committed. There they are wafting along in a temporal state of romantic bliss. Sigh.
In the past such couples have been either boyfriend or girlfriend or they were betrothed; there was nothing in between.
Not so today. A range of relationships has blossomed on the fertile savanna that stretches between the school formal (the new debutante ball) and marriage (late 20s to early 30s).
And I am not talking about one-night stands and illicit affairs. After all, I have it on very good authority that lust and licentiousness have been around for some time and are likely to remain popular institutions for decades to come.
However, while I'm on this subject why is it that the French so dominate this perhaps flawed aspect of the human condition?
French words such as affair, dilettante, roue, paramour and libertine as well as a number of other blushworthy concepts suggest this nationality has had a greater than usual need to get a very firm grip on such matters. C'est la vie, I suppose.
And so to the issue. What we need is a new term to describe young couples who live together and who, let's be frank, sleep together but who acknowledge that the relationship may or may not proceed to a formal and committed union.
As is often the case in popular demography I have found a solution in an acronym. How about Cohabiting Lovers Uncommitted to Marriage or Partnership, or CLUMP?
The beauty of clump is that it is versatile and so can be used to describe a straight or gay relationship or indeed any one of the parties within that relationship. "Hello I'd like you to meet my son and his clump." Or, "My daughter is in a lovely clump relationship in Sydney." Perfect.
In one fell swoop you have transmitted the fact that a special relationships exists between the parties but through the use of an acronym the telltale term lover is coquettishly shielded from public scrutiny. Coquettish, isn't that a French word? Mon Dieu the French have been active in this arena.
Or is that the English have been so unimaginative when it comes to the language of love and have borrowed the lot from across the Channel?
Please consider clump: it's subtle, it's new and it boldly goes where no satisfactory term has gone before. Clearly clump is the starship Enterprise of the demographic world: its purpose is to explore and chart new territory. The only thing holding clump back from the stardom it so richly deserves is its unfortunate phonetics. Clump has the misfortune to rhyme with rump, dump, stump and chump.
I am sure the stylish gay community would never have a thing to do with a drab-sounding word like clump for this very reason. That is of course unless I give it a cunning and exotic makeover.
Let's turn clump from an ugly duckling into a beautiful swan. How about Frenchifying the term to clumpe for males and to clumpee for females. Magnifique, je ne sais pas?
Bernard Salt is a KPMG Partner; twitter.com/bernardsalt; Facebook.com/BernardSaltDemographer; bsalt@kpmg.com.au