A man who talks constantly is not necessarily saying much.
We have met the type. Confident on the surface, filling every pause, needing the room to know what he thinks before he has finished thinking it. It reads as ease. It is usually the opposite — a kind of quiet panic at silence, at being unwatched, at a gap in the conversation that might mean he is not currently impressive.
The man we make for has mostly grown out of this. Not because he has less to say. Because he has stopped needing to say it to prove he can. He has learned that a sentence you actually mean lands harder than three you were performing.
We write the same way. This is not an accident. A brand that fills every line with adjectives is doing what that man stopped doing years ago — talking to cover the silence, not to say something true. We would rather write four honest sentences than forty persuasive ones.
It shows up in the clothes too, if you know where to look. One collar. One seam. Nothing added because a page felt empty. The discipline is the same discipline. Say the true thing. Leave out the rest.