It was hard not to notice the stylish young women, menus in hand, greeting hungry tourists in Quebec City’s Old Town.

They were stylish but casual, not unlike someone you might see in Maine. But something was different – they looked more poised and confident, unafraid to add that elegant touch of a scarf wound around the neck.

It was a scene I saw again and again – not a Croc in sight, no sweatpants, no fanny packs. Except on Americans.

Isadora Duncan, queen of scarves. George Grantham Bain Collection, Library of Congress

So how do our neighbors to the north, OOB Speedos notwithstanding, manage to look so good? Could it be that they care, I wondered?

It seems like Maine women just give up after 30, mused my European friend, as we strolled around Quebec.

I wondered again this week when I picked up my long-awaited September “Vogue” to find an article by Jean Hanff Korelitz: “The Sloppy Syndrome.”

“I have always had a very uneasy relationship with the idea of elegance,” she writes. “Nice clothes were fine, but you didn’t want to look as if you were trying too hard or cared that much. I could never seem to get very dressed up without feeling compelled to mess up my hair or skip the stockings, just to take the edge off. When it came to heels, I always chickened out just before I left the house and swapped them for something that wouldn’t look so ... forced. Jewelry and makeup were seriously in conflict with my version of casual chic,” she continues, “so even when I put them on, I ended up removing them before I walked out the door.”

Korelitz found she wasn’t alone. I understand too. How many times have I put together the perfect outfit, only to worry that it might be too much for the streets of Portland?

My friend at work offered one explanation for the I-don’t-care attitude: We live in Maine. At least that was her thought yesterday as she donned a rain slicker worthy of sailing adventures over her dress clothes and walked to work. Not so in Florida, where she moved for awhile; she was shocked to find a trip to the grocery store required more thought than just throwing on clothes. It meant being “done” - fashion, makeup, a pedicure.

So what’s so bad about looking good? Nothing, say many women who work in the Old Port.

Emily Scott of Amaryllis said she was amazed by the style and grace she saw in Paris and London when she lived in Europe. “Coming back to Maine, I was kind of shocked. I always take pride in dressing.” And unless she’s running, she adds, she always leaves the house “dressed.”

“Women celebrate femininity more in those cosmopolitan cities.” And Emily, for one, likes to “celebrate being feminine.” That means nice clothing, heels, jewelry. “You can be feminine and chic until you’re 90,” she adds. “ That’s what I hope to be. To me clothing is an art and I celebrate it. It’s a love of mine so I try to spread that to other women.”

So back to the question: Why don’t many women “dress” in Maine? “It’s almost as though they feel awkward if they’re dressed up,” says Emily. “Peer pressure,” theorizes Denise Novotny, co-owner of Simply Chic boutique. Maybe, says her partner Missy Tasker, “they’re afraid they stand out too much.”

Maryann Lawton, manager of Stiletto, thinks Maine’s styles are improving, though. “Shops are changing, and some women’s appearances are changing accordingly – for the better.” She, for one, is not afraid to be herself and takes pride in putting together an “outfit” for even a shopping trip into town.

“The final analysis is embrace yourself and who you are,” she suggests.

Good advice. For me, this fall, that means adding to my collection of scarves, a fashion lesson I learned from my mother. Quebec, I found, was a gold mine.

By the end of my little vacation I was actually flattered when a shop clerk started a lively dialogue in French. Seeing my puzzled look, she smiled and switched to English. “Oh, I thought you were French,” she said.

Must have been the scarf.

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