If your goal is to be elegant, say goodbye to these 7 common habits

Elegance isn’t a price tag or a filter.

It’s a feeling people get around you—calm, considered, quietly confident.

If that’s the goal, you don’t need more. You need less of what’s getting in the way.

Let’s get specific.

1. Over-accessorizing

“Elegance is refusal,” said Coco Chanel—and she wasn’t just talking about logos.

She meant the discipline to edit. If I stack three bracelets, two necklaces, a belt with a shiny buckle, and a hat “for flair,” I’m not signaling taste. I’m signaling indecision.

When I pare back, the silhouette breathes and the eye knows where to land.

As Chanel advised, I’ll often remove one thing before leaving the house; nine times out of ten, the outfit looks sharper for it.

If you’re unsure, anchor around one intentional detail: a neat watch, a clean hoop, a scarf you love. Then let the rest play support.

Elegance starts where visual noise ends.

2. Chasing every trend

Trends are dessert. Fun in small bites, sickly when they become a diet.

Elegance has a point of view, which means saying no more often than yes. I’ve bought the “it” sneaker only to realize it didn’t match my wardrobe, my lifestyle, or my values.

It made me feel like a guest star in someone else’s story.

Try this instead: name three words you want your style to communicate—say, “calm, intentional, warm.” Use them like guardrails.

When a trend pops up, ask: does it serve those words? If not, pass. Consistency reads elegant because it reads confident.

3. Talking more than you listen

We don’t usually connect “elegance” to conversation, but we should.

Elegant presence isn’t just seen; it’s felt in the way you give others space to land. I’ve caught myself filling silences with résumé bullet points, hot takes, or overexplaining a simple idea.

None of that makes me look smarter. It makes me look anxious.

A small fix with a big payoff: pause. Let someone finish their thought. Ask a precise follow-up question instead of rehearsing your reply while they’re speaking.

People remember how you made them feel; gracious listeners feel effortlessly elegant.

4. Rushing through rooms (and life)

Elegance has a tempo. It’s not slow—it’s deliberate.

When I barrel into a café, bag slipping, earbuds tangled, I broadcast chaos. The coffee might be great, but the impression isn’t.

Contrast that with the person who moves like they have time: shoulders back, steps even, gestures tidy. No theatrics, just control.

You don’t need ballet training to move well. Try this: before you open a door, exhale. Before you stand up, square your feet. When you enter a room, look where you’re going rather than at your phone.

These micro-pauses smooth your presence and give your words a little more gravity.

5. Letting clutter run the show

Clutter dulls everything it touches—style, mood, even your ability to make simple choices.

Research from UCLA’s Center on Everyday Lives of Families found that cluttered home environments are linked to higher cortisol (stress) levels, especially in women. Translation: mess is costly.

I’ve mentioned this before but it bears repeating: your bag, your desk, your phone home screen—these are tiny ecosystems you carry into every interaction.

When I cut my keychain to the essentials, create a “drop zone” by the door, and prune my apps to one page, I don’t just find things faster. I show up clearer. Elegance thrives in negative space.

6. Overcomplicating the basics

“Perfection is achieved not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left to take away,” wrote Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. That line lives on my notes app because it’s the backbone of elegance. (source)

Overcomplication sneaks in as “options.” A morning with 14 outfit combos, 9 skincare steps, and 6 possible breakfasts is not luxury—it’s friction.

I used to bounce between three different morning playlists and still feel scrambled. Now I keep a simple “default stack”: a capsule of repeatable outfits I love, a two-step skincare routine, and a breakfast I could make half asleep.

Less deciding, more being. Elegance isn’t ornate; it’s obvious.

7. Neglecting maintenance and manners

Elegance is not a new coat. It’s a well-brushed old one.

Lint, loose threads, scuffed shoes, foggy glasses—these small signals add up. So do the social equivalents: late replies, non-committal plans, forgetting names.

The bar for graciousness is low; step over it and you’ll stand out.

My practical checklist looks like this:

• Steam or brush garments the night before, not as I’m heading out.

• Shine shoes and condition leather monthly. Set a reminder.

• Keep a mini kit: lint roller sheets, mints, tissue, spare tote.

• When in doubt, send the message: “Running 5 minutes behind—see you soon.”

• Use names. It’s the simplest elegance there is.

If you struggle with follow-through, pair the habit to an existing anchor: while the kettle boils on Sundays, I clean my sneakers.

While a podcast plays, I sew buttons. Maintenance loses its drama when it’s routine.

A few more things to drop on the way to elegant

Logo shouting. A quiet sweater with a perfect fit beats a loud one that fights your face. Aim for materials that love light: crisp cotton, matte silk, soft wool. They wear beautifully without asking for applause.

Busy patterns without a plan. Prints can be stunning, but treat them like a soloist, not a chorus. If the shirt sings, let the rest be a steady rhythm section.

Performative minimalism. Elegance isn’t a color ban. You can be vibrant and elegant if the lines are clean and the intention is clear. A cobalt coat over a white tee and dark denim? Yes. A neon pile-up? Save it for festival season.

Second-screening when you’re with people. Nothing drags down your presence like a phone on the table, screen up. Try face-down or—radical idea—in your bag. The person across from you is the main event.

Apologizing for existing. “Sorry, just a quick question…” “Sorry, is this seat taken?” Sorry is for mistakes, not for being human. Swap it for “thank you for waiting” or “is now a good time?” Elegance respects others and yourself.

How to make this real by Friday

Elegance is a practice, so make it practical:

• One-in, one-out rule. For accessories and apps. Buy a new cap? Donate one. Install a new app? Delete one.

• Default uniform. Pick a go-to combo that flatters you and wears well across contexts. Make two seasonal versions and keep them ready.

• Voice check. Record yourself speaking for 60 seconds on anything. Notice the filler, pace, and tone. Your goal isn’t radio polish; it’s clarity and warmth.

• Five-minute exit edit. Before you leave, mirror check for posture, lint, and that one extra thing to remove. Chanel would approve.

• Sunday reset. Wash, mend, plan three outfits, put your bag by the door with only what you need. Monday-You will feel like a different person.

The bottom line

Elegance is a series of refusals: to crowd, to rush, to overcomplicate. When you cut the noise, your presence turns up.

Start with one habit this week. Edit your accessories, clear your bag, or try a slower walk into your next room.

You’ll feel the difference before anyone else says a word.