ELEGANCE ISN'T ELITIST, IT'S INTENTIONAL

Quiet luxury isn’t just rich people cosplay. It’s a cultivated confidence

Elegance gets a bad rap. For some, the word conjures up images of privilege swaddled in beige cashmere — the kind of woman who owns a different Hermès bag for each day of the week and thinks “summering” is a verb. But let’s be clear: that’s not elegance. That’s wealth. And the two are not interchangeable.

Somewhere between the rise of quiet luxury and the fall of the logomania era, we started confusing the look of elegance with the cost of elegance. And now, “quiet luxury” (once a whisper of tasteful rebellion) is being written off as little more than rich people cosplay. Which is a shame, really. Because true elegance has very little to do with money and everything to do with intention.

Think about it: when we picture elegant women, we’re not thinking of those glued to trend cycles or chasing the next ‘It’ item. We’re thinking of the ones who knew who they were and dressed accordingly. Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy. Lauren Hutton. Phoebe Philo in a white shirt and trousers so precise they could draw blood. Yes, they had access. But it was the restraint that made them iconic. The ability to say “no” to noise, to novelty, to anything that didn’t serve their style.

Elegance is not about excess. It’s about editing.

Carolyn, for instance, didn’t invent the bias-cut slip dress, but she wore it like a second skin; one that said, I don’t need your approval, I’ve got my own mirror. Her wardrobe wasn’t huge (even though it could have been), but it was precise. Each piece looked like it had been considered, lived in, understood. That’s the kind of elegance you can’t buy off the shelf. Because elegance isn’t just what you wear, it’s how you wear it. It’s posture. Energy. Presence. It’s the difference between showing up in an expensive outfit and showing up in an outfit that fits you — not just physically, but emotionally. That’s why you can spot someone elegant in a white t-shirt and jeans, and still be floored. It’s about the person, not the price tag.

Let’s not forget: some of the most enduring style icons had little to no designer budgets. Think of Jane Birkin with her straw basket (before Hermès put a padlock on it). Or Audrey Hepburn, who made pedal pushers and flat shoes look revolutionary. Or even more modern examples: Sofia Coppola, whose entire aesthetic whispers I have exquisite taste and absolutely no need to talk about it. Or Emma Corrin, who wears Loewe like it was something off her bedroom floor and isn’t afraid of weirdness. Elegance is not sameness. It's specificity. And confidence in that specificity.

Of course, quiet luxury, in the capital-F Fashion sense, has become a commodity. The Row, Khaite, Loro Piana, Toteme — yes, these brands are expensive. Yes, they have mastered the art of the luxe neutral. But to dismiss them as elitist is to miss the larger point. These collections are about craftsmanship, about storytelling through silhouette and fabric and proportion. That’s not elitism, that’s artistry. (It just comes with a very high price tag.)

But here’s the real truth: you don’t need to shop these brands to channel the energy. Quiet luxury can be achieved at Uniqlo, COS, ARKET, your local seamstress, or the secondhand shop on the corner if you know what you’re looking for. Buy less, choose better, wear it forever. It’s not just elegant, it’s sustainable, too.

Elegance is also about slowness. In a culture obsessed with the new, it’s the ultimate rebellion to return to your own classics — the jacket that always works, the shoes that don’t need breaking in, the scent that smells like home. Elegance resists urgency. It’s cultivated, not consumed.

We’re at a point where social media has flattened style into categories: “clean girl,” “mob wife,” “coastal grandma,” “tomato girl.” (I’m still not over that one.) It’s all very fun, but it’s not very deep. And when you’re busy trying to look like someone else, you forget how to dress like yourself.

So no, elegance isn’t elitist. It’s not about your bank balance or club memberships. It’s about being sure. Sure of your choices, your rhythm, your reasons. Sure enough to wear the same trousers twice in a week. Sure enough to walk out of the house in a black turtleneck and no backup plan.

Because the truth is, elegance isn’t owned — it’s earned.