WHY ELEGANCE WAS NEVER MADE FOR BLACK WOMAN

"They look at themselves as women, but uh we've had to look at ourselves as black."

WELCOME TIMELESS.

Thank you for joining us today as we dive into a powerful and necessary conversation inspired by Desi Rich’s compelling work, "Why Elegance Was Never Made for Black Women." This discussion isn’t just about fashion or style it’s about history, identity, and the long-standing cultural narratives that have shaped, excluded, and redefined what elegance truly means. Together, we’ll explore how Black women have been systematically erased from traditional ideals of grace and refinement — and how, despite that, they’ve continued to redefine elegance on their own terms. Let’s begin.

"Let's talk about something no one wants to say out loud. The world doesn't know what to do with a classy black woman. Not because she doesn't exist, but because she wasn't expected to exist. We were trained to survive, to be strong, to be loud, to be visible, but only when it's entertaining, to be everything but elegant. So when we show up with grace, with standards, peace, and presence, it confuses people. It scares them because the classy black woman, she's not a trend. She's a revolution. It is the standard, just as it always should have been. Their revolution was not just about fashion. It was about visibility, power, and the right to be seen. The term class has always been entangled with whiteness. Now, historically, elegance and refinement were defined by European beauty standards.

Access, and money, none of which were designed to include black women. So, when we show up in tailored blazers, silk dresses, and speak with clarity and softness, the system malfunctions. Why, you may ask? because we're not fitting the stereotypes. We're not angry. We're not loud. We're not ratchet. And we're not hustling for attention. We're simply existing with care. And in a world that's only respected us for our labor, our pain, our survival, class is viewed as a betrayal of what they expected us to be. But that's not our burden to carry anymore. Classy black women disrupt the narratives. We're not trying to be liked. We're demanding respect. We take up space without raising our voices. We lead without competing. We're sensual without being sexualized. We dress for intention, not attention.

That's power. And the truth is, when a black woman is grounded in herself, not rushing, not chasing, not proving, she becomes uncontrollable. That's why the world resists us stepping into elegance. Because once we stop performing, they can no longer profit off of our chaos. I'm annoyed that the desire to hold on to the old stereotype because it is easier for the white community and it makes them more quote comfortable unquote um to have a role that they feel you are supposed to play that you are supposed to be. I become annoyed when I see that they're having difficulty adjusting. I have to adjust to different personalities constantly. Don't look up, see me coming into the room, and because you see the color of my skin, think you know who and what I am. You don't. You have to take the time. Just like I have had to learn to take the time.

Take a look at media. We're adored when we're funny, loud, over the top. We go viral when we're real or chaotic. But when we're soft, when we speak slowly, when we walk with grace and wear luxury with no explanation, it's boring. It's fake. It's trying to be white. But here's what they don't realize. Elegance on a black woman is not assimilation. It's reclamation. Let's be clear. We're not copying anyone. We're bringing our rhythm, our history, our flavor to what they tried to gatekeep.

When we're classy, we don't erase our culture. We elevate it. It's gold jewelry and glossy lips. It's soft skins and sharp boundaries. It's a room going silent when we walk in. Not out of fear, but out of respect. Because the truth is, elegance is not whiteness. It's discernment. It's intention. It's care. It's how you carry yourself when you realize you don't have to beg to belong. And when we as black women embrace that, we stop performing. We stop explaining. and we start embodying. This is terrifying to a world that's built on controlling us. They want us to believe that we're the exception. But the classy black woman is not rare. She's just been hidden, undeliberated, unprotected, misunderstood. But she's everywhere now. In law offices, in studios, in content, in luxury boutiques, in quiet apartments full of candles and peace, in her bonnet and silk rope, journaling in the morning. We are not waiting on anyone to validate us. We are the standard. This isn't just about looking good.

This is about feeling free. And once we understand that, there's no going back. What they don't understand is this didn't start with us. Elegance lives in our lineage. It's in the way our grandmothers set the table on Sundays. It's in the way our aunties pressed our collars and told us to walk tall. It's in the way that black women took what little we had and made it look like abundance. Class isn't something we bought. It's something we carried. Even when the world stripped us of our dignity, we found ways to preserve beauty. A scarf tied just right. A perfect hill. A perfume that lingered longer than the pain. So when we embrace class now, it's not new. It's remembered. They told us softness was dangerous, that it would leave us vulnerable. They made us easy to break.

But the truth is, softness is strategy. It's a choice. It's what happens when a woman finally feels safe in herself. And black women, we've earned that safety. We fought for it. Now we get to protect it. So if I choose quiet over chaos, if I choose boundaries over burnout, if I choose a bubble bath over a breakdown, that is not weakness. That's wisdom. That's a woman that no longer proves herself through pain. Now remember, this is bigger than us. Because here's the truth. When we walk with elegance, you're not just doing it for you. You're doing it for the little black girl watching you. You're doing it for the version of you that didn't even know it was possible. You're showing your future self that softness is sustainable, that dignity doesn't have to be loud, and that beauty doesn't mean begging. Every time we rise in grace, we're rewriting the rules for the next generation so she doesn't have to unlearn what we had to. This is legacy work.

This is healing work. This is black womanhood redefined. So the next time someone asks who does she think she is, you look them in their eyes softly, firmly, and say exactly who I was born to be. No more, no less. And that is why they don't want black women to be classy. Because when we are, we're undeniable." — DESI RICH

As we come to a close, let us carry forward the understanding that elegance was never denied to Black women because it was beyond their reach — it was denied because systems of power tried to define elegance without them. But time and again, Black women have reclaimed it, reshaped it, and redefined it in ways that reflect strength, dignity, beauty, and resilience.

Desi Rich’s message reminds us that true elegance cannot be confined to Eurocentric standards. It lives in authenticity, in culture, in presence — and Black women have always embodied that, whether the world chose to see it or not.

So, as we leave this space, may we challenge outdated ideals, celebrate the elegance that has always existed within Black womanhood, and continue to create spaces where it is seen, honored, and uplifted.

Thank you all for reading

GOD BLESS YOU ALL.