Why effortless isn’t natural

Feb 26, 2026

What Marie Antoinette, Carolyn Bessette, and a teenage boy taught me about style

February has been whispering to me through very unlikely places lately, small moments that somehow keep repeating the same message.

Like my 15 year old son’s wardrobe.

Oversized hoodies. T-shirts he’s had forever. Trainers that look like they couldn’t care less. It’s not styling. It’s pure instinct. There’s no overthinking, or performance. Just certainty.

And I’ve been borrowing from it nonstop.

(Please don’t tell him I said that.)

Then I went to the Marie Antoinette exhibition at the V&A, which, of course, is sold out. (Is there anything remotely interesting right now that isn’t?) It ends in March, so if you have a friend with a membership, now is the time to plead. With dignity. Maybe even flowers.

And then there’s Margot Robbie on the Wuthering Heights press tour. Dresses that feel romantic but deliberate. Not pared down minimal. Not maximal either. Edited. Chosen. Considered. Her Stylist is a genius!

And then, because life loves a strange thread, I found myself lingering on Love Story: John F. Kennedy Jr. and Carolyn Bessette. Sarah Pidgeon playing Carolyn with this quiet, almost unsettling presence. There was nothing loud about Carolyn. But you can’t look away.

And that’s when it clicked.

Effortless doesn’t happen by accident.

If you trace all these moments, a teenage boy’s closet, an 18th-century queen, a 90s icon, a modern press wardrobe, what they share isn’t simplicity.

It’s control.

Not rigid control.

Quiet control.

Not minimal as absence, but minimal as decision.

The kind you only arrive at when you’ve decided what matters… and what doesn’t.

And here’s where it gets uncomfortable.

Carolyn wasn’t magnetic because she wore simple clothes. She was magnetic because nothing about her felt uncertain.

The clean lines worked because her presence was steady.

The lack of accessories worked because she didn’t need distraction.

The white shirt worked because everything else, posture, hair, gaze, restraint, was aligned.

You can copy the uniform, but you can’t copy the certainty.

That’s why so many women tell me they want a capsule wardrobe.

They think fewer pieces will create clarity. That minimal will make life easier. That simplicity equals effortlessness.

But simplicity without identity just feels hollow.

You cannot wake up, throw on jeans and a T-shirt, and expect it to land, unless you’ve already done the internal editing.

Effortless style requires attention.

Attention to proportion.

To grooming.

To silhouette.

To lifestyle.

To who you are becoming.

It requires discipline.

The kind that looks like instinct from the outside.

You don’t start with fewer clothes.

You start with sharper questions.

Who am I dressing for right now?
What does my life actually require of me?
Where do I disappear in my clothes, and where do I feel fully seen?

Because simplicity is not about reduction, but precision. And precision only comes from clarity.

This is the part of style that rarely gets talked about in trend reports or capsule checklists, the internal editing, the quiet refinement, the alignment between who you are and what you wear.

It’s also the work I do in my Style Strategy sessions. Not stripping wardrobes down for the sake of minimalism, but refining what’s already there until it feels exact.

Because effortlessness isn’t about owning less. It’s about knowing more.