Women's Lifestyle October 12, 2025 0 Comments

How Diane Keaton’s Timeless Personal Style Can Revolutionize Your Confidence and Wellness Game

So, Diane Keaton just left us at 79—and man, the internet is flooded with love from legends like Bette Midler and Goldie Hawn, plus millions who barely knew her but felt like they did. It’s wild how a style icon like Diane could make everyone—from Annie Hall fans to Gen Z Bieber watchers—feel part of her world. You ever wonder how someone can flip the script on Hollywood fashion standards, deck themselves out in trousers, blazers, and quirky accessories, and still own it with pure joy? Diane didn’t just get dressed; she made it her art form, turning personal taste into a full-blown statement way before stylists even knew what hit them. Here’s a deep dive into the legacy of a woman who made fashion less about fitting in and more about standing out—because that’s the kind of timeless swagger we can all learn from. LEARN MORE

Yesterday, actress Diane Keaton passed away at 79, and heartfelt tributes poured into social media from her peers like Bette Midler and Goldie Hawn, both of whom starred alongside her in the 1996 film The First Wives Club. Tributes came, too, from the millions who didn’t know her but felt like they did—whether through her star turn in Annie Hall, her portrayal of a supportive mom in Father of The Bride, or, for Gen Z, her appearance in Justin Bieber’s “Ghost” music video. And many of these tributes paid homage to her inimitable style.

Keaton’s signature look involved trousers and a blazer, along with a kooky accessory like a necktie, a thick belt, a flower broach (long before Carrie Bradshaw did it), or a bowler hat, and maybe a platform shoe or slinky boot. She never abided by any Hollywood-set standards of how women in film should approach fashion, choosing instead to follow her own personal taste—and to do it for the sheer joy of getting dressed.

ABC Photo Archives

Keaton accepting the Best Actress Oscar for her role in Annie Hall, 1978

When she won her first of two Oscars for her portrayal of Annie Hall in 1978, she accepted the award dressed in the opposite of an opulent designer gown: a gray blazer, a white button-down shirt, and a striped, calf-length skirt worn over pants that were tucked into boots, an infinity scarf tied loosely around her neck. She wore almost no jewelry, just a simple pair of stud earrings and a pink carnation brooch on her lapel. This was before celebrities regularly worked with stylists, but in fact, she continued to select her own looks for the rest of her career, eschewing the movie-fashion partnership tradition by going her own way in labels she loved like Richard Tyler, Ralph Lauren, Giorgio Armani, Thom Browne, and Comme des Garçons.

Erin Combs

Keaton arriving to the screening of Baby Boom in 1987

Of course, Annie Hall is probably Keaton’s most iconic fashion character in her vest and tie (a mash-up of vintage pieces she collected herself for the role), but I always think of her dressed as J.C. Wyatt, the workaholic investment broker who inherits an infant from a distant cousin in 1987’s Baby Boom. I remember my mom, a criminal prosecutor back then, affectionately commenting on Keaton’s 1980s work wardrobe—belted skirt suits with big shoulders, silk ascots, black patent pumps. Like Keaton, my mom had a penchant for non-revealing, slightly tomboyish silhouettes and shapes. They were comfortable clothes, but sharp, with pieces that never sacrificed elegance and glamour for practicality.

I also often think of Keaton in her cool white skirt suit, swinging her hips, skipping, and bobbing her head while singing “You Don’t Own Me” at the end of The First Wives Club, a scene that always made my mom and me smile when we’d watch together. She owned that scene, that suit, that song. Whether on screen or on the red carpet, or much later on her Instagram, it was clear that Keaton simply adored getting dressed, for no one else but herself.

american actor and director diane keaton poses with a big smile and tilted head at the 48th academy awards and wears a white suit with a carnation in the lapel, striped shirt, and polka dot tie, los angeles, california, march 29, 1976. (photo by frank edwards/fotos international/getty images)

Fotos International

Keaton in a Richard Tyler suit at the 1976 Oscars

Last year, Rizzoli published a book written by Keaton called Fashion First. In it, the actress charts her sartorial life through memories. She wrote about wanting to wear a bowler hat to her prom, her obsession with accessories, and how Cary Grant’s style formed her love of fashion. In the forward, Lauren himself wrote, “Diane has worn my clothes many times but she’s always made them totally her own.” That’s what real personal style is, plain and simple, and not just because Ralph Lauren says you have it.

To me, Keaton’s legacy represents an unadulterated, unfiltered sense of personal taste. It’s an expressiveness that you can see in her acting work, too—the kind of cool that’s especially charming in someone who was born with it and knows how to say something with it. People in fashion love to go on about personal style (how to find it, what it means, whether it can be taught) and it’s easy to develop a sense of exhaustion, or cynicism, about the topic. But one must discuss personal style when discussing Keaton—at least those of us who fancy ourselves fashion-heads and favor suits and ties over ruffles and ball skirts.

portrait of american actor and director diane keaton as she sits near a swimming pool, 1996. she wears a purple black striped suit, bowler hat, and, around her neck, wears a large black crucifix. (photo by bob grant/fotos international/getty images)

Fotos International

Keaton in one of her favorite cross necklaces in 1996

Beginning in 2019, Keaton started posting outfit mirror selfies, capturing herself in a mostly black-and-white palette, sometimes with a check print or houndstooth, usually with an air of Japanese avant garde and a few piled-on cross necklaces. Up until the end, she made fashion her own art form, not for attention or likes—although her fans ate it up—but seemingly because it made her feel alive, as real style should for anyone who can recognize its power to uplift and transform.

One of the most touching tributes to Keaton and her life came from the equally charming and spunky Midler, who summed Keaton up as such: “What you saw was who she was… oh, la lala!” Keaton may have worn clothes that tended to cover her up (something she talked about often) but on screen, in life, on the internet, and in matters of fashion, her style always revealed who she really was—and she had a damn good time getting dressed for all of it.