Strolling down Via Vittorio Veneto in Rome recently, a rather large gentleman of African American origin asked me the time. Pulling down my gloves and pushing up my coat sleeve to reveal my classical, yet by today’s standards small, Cartier Tank wristwatch. I informed him it was about midday.
With that, Leroy Hornblower, for that was the name he eventually proffered, burst into a gut-busting laugh and pointed at my watch saying, “Whas that manı”
Needless to say I kept a stiff upper lip, an uncomfortable pose with a bristly moustache. “What’s whatı” I retorted with bravado. “That miniature ticker you got man,” Leroy said flashing more ivory than a Steinway piano. “I mean that ain’t no timepiece. Where you from man, you livin’ in antiquityı You got no bling and if you ain’t got the bling man, you got no street cred.”
With that, Leroy hoisted his shirtsleeve, which was about the size of a yacht’s mainsail and flaunted his multi-coloured, diamond-set 18 carat rose-gold watch. I don’t know the brand, but whatever it was the blinding glare sent me reeling. I asked Leroy where his rather glitzy watch came from.
“It’s from the Big Apple man, like me, and it’s got the bling yoı”
I nodded and yo’d him back, asking why he’d asked the time when he had a watch and mistakenly remarking that his wasn’t very discreet.
“Disreetı You cain’t be street cred with discreet. If you got the ice you flaunt it man, I mean when it’s your turn to shine, fifty or better on yo wrist they all blind. As to the time, these mothers have to look good, it ain’t necessary that they work.” And with that he pulled the rest of his shirt open to reveal enough gold chain and diamonds around his neck to make the Tiber burst its banks if he ever fell in.
So there I was in the middle of Rome chatting to a gold-chested, fast-talking, street-cred rapper. Given that I hadn’t understood a single word of his discreet remark I suggested a coffee so that we could sit and he could explain his hip-hop bling jargon.
I learned that bling or bling-bling are synonymous with expensive, flashy chains, rings and watches preferably with a pride of diamonds, or whatever the collective noun is for an obscene amount of them, usually worn by mostly African American hip-hop artists and middle class Caucasian adolescents. It can be used as a verb: to bling bling, which when translated means the act of sporting jewellery or watches that are highly extravagant and outlandishly gaudy, or as a noun as in, “Man, I gots the bling-bling, yo.”
The origins of bling-bling date to the early 90s when the New Orleans Rap family the Cash Money Millionaires used it and the rapper Baby Gangsta (BG) used it in a ‘songı’ title. BG recently said that he was surprised that the word has become so popular, adding, “I just wish I’d trademarked it.”
As an example of this unintelligible argot, Leroy rapped out a few lines for me. “Wootay, I’m tattooed and barred up, medallion iced up, Rolex bezelled up, and my pinky ring is platinum plus the earrings be trillion cut and my grill be slugged up.” I obviously appeared nonplussed because he said, “You not get it manı” I shook my head. “Man, you gotta get wise, all it means is that the man looks good enough to talk any woman onto his chaise longue!”
At this point, my newly found rapper friend Leroy Hornblower spun round to look at a passing Mercedes. “Man, look at that Benz on all that chrome.” “Ah,” I said, “that’s bling yoı”
Leroy stood up, towered over me and gave me a last flash of the ice on his frame. “Don’t diss it man. Bling is hip. Bling is the thing. I gotta go now I’m goin’ blinging with the clique. You stay hip man and go get the price of a chateau ‘round yo neck else you gonna stay antique.”
He gave me a final two-octave piano key smile and strode off, chains rattling.
Bling may be in, but I wish someone would bling me the head of that Baby Gangsta fella’. Well man, y’all stay cool, especially if you’ve got some ice.


Source: April-May 2005 Issue