Cottagecore

Okay, so Cottagecore. Let’s be real — this one’s more of a mood than a style rulebook. It’s what happens when you romanticize country living so hard you start making your own jam and reading by candlelight even though you have perfectly good electricity.

You don’t need an actual cottage. Heck, you could be living in a city apartment with a view of a parking lot. Cottagecore just asks: does your space feel gentle? Does it make you want to take a deep breath and maybe write in a journal with a fountain pen you thrifted for $2? That’s the vibe.

The look is soft, a little worn-in and very homemade-feeling. Nothing should be too perfect. A chipped ceramic bowl? Love that. A cozy throw blanket that’s been washed so many times it’s almost see-through? Perfect. It’s all about pieces that feel like they’ve lived a little — just like you.

Florals are big here, but not in a Pinterest-drenched, perfectly symmetrical kind of way. More like: wildflowers stuffed into a mason jar or old wallpaper that’s faded just right. If your grandma once had it in her kitchen, Cottagecore probably wants it.

Color-wise, we’re talking creams, soft greens, dusty roses, pale yellows. Earthy stuff. Nothing neon. Nothing cold or shiny. If it looks like it belongs in a field or a storybook, you're on track.

Cottagecore also lowkey loves nature. Even if your garden is one struggling basil plant on the windowsill, you’re in. Just give it a name and talk to it once in a while. Bonus points for foraging, but honestly? A walk in the park with a tote bag works just fine.

At the end of the day, Cottagecore is about slowing the heck down. It’s soft lighting, hot tea, doing something with your hands, and being okay with imperfections. Like, really okay. Maybe even a little in love with them.

So if you’ve ever fantasized about baking bread while wearing a linen apron and listening to birds chirp through an open window — welcome. You’re already there.