Tom Chiarella tested his theories on random strangers:
I abandoned simple and direct, gave up on the humble declarative expression. A true compliment is a complex expression of unrequired appreciation — how could three words do the job? It worked better when I grew more audacious:
"You seem really happy. That's a pleasure to see."
And more concrete:
"All I can say is, that is a classy umbrella. It looks old-timey and right for you."
And unafraid of a little complication:
"My mother always wanted me to wear a corduroy coat like that. Now I see why."
People responded. Sure, some passed without acknowledging what I said, but most smiled, thanked me, gave firm little nods. I could sometimes see them stand up a little straighter. One guy told me a story about where he got his tennis racket, and a woman noted that the purse I liked was a knockoff but that her cousin Celine had an even worse one. A kid told me his watch was his grandfather's and asked if I wanted to see the inscription. Some of these people turned to me and waved when they left. They locked eyes.
Advice on how to gracefully accept a compliment here.