There’s something about the French woman that makes you stop and stare. Not because she’s showy, but because she isn’t. Her style is subtle, instinctive, slightly mysterious. She doesn’t look like she came out of a fashion magazine — she looks like she edits it.
But what makes French style so unmistakable? And why is it that Parisian women in particular seem to have been born with this quiet confidence and sartorial fluency?
As an unapologetically cosmopolitan French woman and writer chronicling my fashion takes since the early aughts, I can address these questions. Here are the five principles of French style.
Artwork by Garance Doré
Contrast
Parisian women dress in a way that’s full of contradictions. The magic is in the unexpected pairing of a tweed Chanel jacket balanced with a slouchy pair of jeans, a delicate silk slip dress grounded by a men’s oversized trench coat, a pair of ballerina flats worn with tailored pants and an old band tee. The trick is to soften the obviousness of any one piece.
There’s a certain irreverence at work. It’s not about destroying the codes of elegance; it’s about bending them and making them yours. Dressing “pretty” is never the goal. After all, looking like you care too much is the ultimate faux pas. The contrast keeps things cool, a little ironic and always interesting.
Timelessness
Sure, trends come and go, but the French wardrobe doesn’t shift dramatically with the seasons — it evolves slowly. A woman isn’t looking to reinvent herself every few months. She finds the shapes, fabrics and silhouettes that suit her, and then she returns to them over and over again.
Crucially, nothing should look too new. The lived-in patina of a jacket passed down from a parent, the softened leather of a vintage bag, the faded black of a perfectly worn-in knit can establish that timeless appeal. These details signal history, intention and restraint. A bag that’s too shiny, shoes that are too polished or a dress that’s clearly “of the moment” are likely to get a subtle side-eye.
The most French sentence you’ll hear? “Oh, this? It used to be my mother’s.” Or even better: “I found it at a tiny vintage store in my neighborhood.”
Discretion
Style in France is something to be observed quietly, not shouted from the rooftops. You won’t see loud logos, over-the-top styling or jarring color clashes. I’ve found that elegance is not about being noticed — it’s about being remembered.
French women understand the art of suggestion. They want the woman across the room to think, she looks incredible, without quite knowing why. The most respected designers in France are those whose pieces are unlabelled but unmistakable. You either know, or you don’t. There’s a certain pleasure in this insider language of fashion. It’s a bit of a game, and the point is never to show off, but instead to show restraint.
Intention
The contents of a Parisian woman’s closet are minimal. This is partially due to limited space, but for the most part, it’s intentional. Built over time, her wardrobe includes items she has hunted, saved for and worn into her skin: Hermès riding boots, a perfect pair of Levi’s 501 jeans, a crisp white men’s shirt, a navy blue cashmere sweater that works in every season, a trench coat that fits like a glove, a navy blazer that can go from meetings to drinks without blinking. These are her tools, her allies. They age with her and become more hers with time.
Jewelry tells a story, too. Items like signet rings from grandfathers, religious medals from childhood and delicate chains layered without effort create intentional interest. You’re unlikely to see a French woman in costume jewelry unless it’s a deliberate wink.
Allure
Handbags and lipstick are important, but above all, allure is what counts most. That mix of posture, presence and self-possession is what makes her style feel complete.
Part of this is due to lifestyle. In Paris, you walk — a lot. So your shoes must be comfortable. Ballet flats, loafers and kitten heels can take you miles and look good while doing so. And yet, you’ll rarely see someone in leggings or sweatpants. There are no disheveled just-popping-out-for-coffee outfits. You never know who you’ll run into — be it your ex, your editor or your neighbor’s judgy mother-in-law.
Looking composed is a form of self-respect. But don’t confuse that with perfection. Hair can be undone, makeup minimal. I truly think it’s exactly this sense of balance that gives French style its unmistakable aura.
Ultimately, French style isn’t really about fashion. It’s a way of being. It’s knowing who you are and dressing accordingly — with grace, restraint and just a hint of rebellion. It’s understanding that true style isn’t something you buy; it’s something you reveal, quietly, with time.
And, no, you don’t need to live in Paris to dress like a French woman. All you need to do is slow down, trust your instincts and care just enough to make it look like you don’t care at all. Start with a detail, revisit last season’s favorites, wear your mother’s jewelry, steal your husband’s jacket, create your own rules. In the end, it’s all about being yourself.
For more fashion and lifestyle musings from Garance Doré, check out her book, Love Style Life.
