For fifteen years I wrote about food. Eight cookbooks. Columns. A blog that began at a kitchen bench in Auckland when my (now 18 year old!) daughter was small and I was younger and needed somewhere to write down all the things I was feeling. Food was how I made sense of myself, how I earned a living, how I showed love to everyone ~ both near and far. I knew my way around a recipe the way you know your way around your own home in the dark. Fresh ideas came easily to me. I realise now how much I took that for granted.

And then, I shifted my entrepreneurial energy into clothing and style. I had a wardrobe guide go unexpectedly viral. I had many wonderful styling clients. A brand I loved asked if I’d like to come and help shape their creative direction. And I said yes ~ enthusiastically, gratefully, with both hands on my heart.

Which is wonderful. It is genuinely wonderful.

But somewhere in the middle of all that newness, the kitchen went quiet. Not dramatically. I can’t actually remember a single moment where I stopped creating and having fun in the kitchen. It was just a gradual fading…. the way a song does when you haven’t listened to it in a while and suddenly can’t quite remember how it goes.

I’ve been cooking, of course. The same handful of reliable meals, rotated weekly like a capsule wardrobe that’s become a little too simplified. And every time I thought about sharing something here, I hesitated. What if it wasn’t interesting enough? What if I’d lost the knack? What if fifteen years of instinct had simply... dissolved?

I might be a little dramatic here.

But it is interesting, isn’t it, how quickly the spark dims when you stop feeding it. How confidence is less a permanent quality and more a living thing that needs to be lovingly tended to.

This school holidays, my daughter and I did what we always used to do when she was little and the afternoon stretched out ahead of us: we made something sweet and slightly messy, and it prompted me to share what we made with you here.

We’d been sending each other reels of healthy-ish treats… the kind that involve dates and nut butter and feel virtuous while tasting like dessert, and decided to make our own version from what we had in the pantry. I did make one small trip to the local supermarket for freeze-dried raspberries, because they make everything look more beautiful and I am not above that. But you can absolutely leave them out as they can be rather pricey! The truffles are just as good without them.

Here’s what we ended up with: peanut butter and raspberry cookie dough truffles, coated in dark chocolate. Roughly ten of them, depending on how generously you roll. They keep in the fridge for the week, though ours only lasted a couple of hours (the reality of having a family of six!).

Here’s what you’ll need:

For the filling
1 cup ground almonds
4 tbsp melted coconut oil
4 tbsp peanut butter
2 tsp vanilla extract
A pinch of sea salt
A small handful of freeze-dried raspberries

For the coating
150g dark chocolate
1–2 tbsp freeze-dried raspberries, for crumbling

Add the ground almonds, coconut oil, peanut butter, vanilla, and sea salt to a food processor and blitz until it comes together. Add the raspberries and pulse two or three times. You want them broken down but still present, little flecks of pink through the mixture. Scrape into a bowl and put it in the fridge for ten to fifteen minutes, until it firms to something that feels and smells remarkably like cookie dough.

Roll into balls. Don’t stress about uniformity.

Melt the chocolate slowly over a double boiler, then coat each ball and set them on a tray or dish lined with baking paper. Crumble over a little more raspberry, for colour, for prettiness, because you can. Back into the fridge for fifteen minutes to set.

That’s it. That’s the whole thing! Now you get to enjoy them!

It felt good, making something again. Standing in the kitchen with my daughter, licking peanut butter off a spoon, arguing mildly about whether the truffles needed more salt. (They did. They always do.)

Maybe the spark doesn’t disappear entirely. Maybe it just waits, patient and unhurried, for you to come back to it.

I think I’m coming back to it.

Lovely to have you here, as always. If you make these, I’d genuinely love to know. Drop a comment or reply to this email. And if you have a healthy-ish sweet treat you keep returning to, send it my way. I’m collecting them! Eleanor x

Hello beautiful readers,

This month has felt full in the best possible way… and also in the slightly breathless, where-did-the-time-go way. I’ve done something a little terrifying and a little exciting: I’ve put my house on the market! When we moved to Raglan, we were in a rush. School starting in January, children needing bedrooms, practicality winning over all the beautiful, romantic visions I had in my mind. And it’s been a lovely home, truly. Fantastic neighbours, a good street. But my partner and I are ready for something that feels a little more us. I’m dreaming of a water view. Or mountains. Ideally both? (I can dream!).

The not-knowing-what-comes-next part is a bit scary if I let myself think about it too hard, so mostly I’m not. I’m trusting in divine timing instead, which is either very wise or very naive, and I haven’t quite worked out which. But in the meantime, here’s all the things that have been bringing me joy this month.

Reading...

Strangers by Belle Burden, which I read in two days flat and couldn’t put down. I’ll be honest, I don’t read many memoirs. But this one pulled me in completely. An unflinchingly honest account of a marriage unravelling after twenty years, written with the kind of raw clarity that makes you feel you’re sitting right beside her. Highly recommend!

Listening to…

For those with little ones at home, Bernie and I have been absolutely enchanted by Laura Marling’s new album Laura Sings Raffi. And as I love to do each month, I’ve been slowly adding songs that make me feel something to a playlist simply called June - a little sonic diary of the month. You’re very welcome to come and listen alongside me as I add to it.

Watching...

Beef Season 2 with my partner on a Friday night. Twisted, satirical, slightly thrilling, and the kind of show that makes you want to talk about it afterwards. We loved it. (I also spent considerable time admiring Carey Mulligan’s wardrobe throughout. I would wear virtually all of it.)

Voicemails for Isabel. I watched it alone one afternoon with a hot chocolate and my hot water bottle and a blanket pulled up to my chin. A wonderful film! Funny and romantic and genuinely moving. I cried twice!

I was also completely captivated by the inside of Amanda Seyfried’s New York apartment. Warm, soft, cosy, elegant, romantic. Everything all at once, and somehow not too much of any of it.

Wearing...

I had this dark red fur coat from Friends With Frank on my wishlist for months, and when it came up on sale a few weeks ago I decided it was clearly meant to be. It’s the kind of coat that make you feel like the fanciest version of myself. Perfect for work days in town that require a bit more of me, and I can’t wait to wear it for our mini getaway to Melbourne next month.

Special mention also for this ANNIE red plaid skirt. I have the exact same style in white, and hand on heart, it is without doubt the most-worn item in my entire wardrobe. Something about it just makes me feel like myself. The fabric is light and soft enough that the full circle silhouette never feels too much. Pair it with the poet blouse for a matching moment. Side note: I had the joy of shooting and styling my lovely friend Marcia for this collection. I really do love my job!

Rituals I’m enjoying...

I’m halfway through my pot of Aleph cleansing balm, and let me tell you, it smells divine, leaves your skin soft and dewy rather than stripped and tight, and feels (especially at the end of a long day) like a small, loving act of kindness toward yourself. That’s exactly what it is, actually.

Cooking...

No recipe as such this month, more of a loose set of instructions that I’ve been returning to again and again. Start with noodles, or rice if that’s what you have. Submerge in vegetable stock with a good splash of soy sauce and a thumb of finely grated ginger. Bok choy, roughly chopped. Spring onion. Whatever protein feels right: marinated satay tofu is my favourite, shredded leftover chicken if there is some, a fried egg if it’s one of those days. Seven minutes or so on a low simmer. Maybe ten. Until it looks exactly like what it is… something nourishing, made without fuss, for yourself, with plenty of love.

• A pocket flower press from Garden Objects, because I am always picking flowers on my neighbourhood walks and this feels like exactly the right tool for someone like me. Pressed flowers in frames. Homemade cards. Yes please.

• I’ve been searching for the perfect pair of vintage jeans. I haven’t had any luck so far, but the Vinola jean from Malene Birger is pretty close to what I’m looking for.

• These satin mule flats with the sweetest ruched detail. A little luxurious, for around the house or otherwise.

• The Uma long-sleeve in navy merino from Dominique Healy, because she simply cannot do wrong when it comes to a flattering neckline and a beautiful basic.

• A raffia basket bag, because the basket bag obsession endures and I have made my peace with that.

• Jenny Walton’s new book ~ for those who don’t follow her Substack Jenny Sais Quoi, please do, she is full of grace and impeccable vintage taste. My birthday is coming up, and should any loved ones happen to be reading this, consider this my very gentle hint.

• This scalloped tray from Tony Sly’s pottery shop down by the Raglan wharf. Something I’m saving as a little housewarming gift to myself, for whenever the new home reveals itself. I’m also eyeing up one of these lovely lamps.

• And finally…I am dreaming, genuinely dreaming, that our next home has a gas stovetop. Because if it does, this Lady Anne moka pot will be sitting on it immediately.

And that’s June, gathered up and handed over to you. Thank you, as always, for being here! If you enjoy reading The Art of Simple you might like to support my work by:

• Popping a like or comment on this post

• Sharing this with someone who might enjoy reading it

• Ordering a copy of my book Intuitive Dressing (I only have two boxes left!)

• Upgrading to a paid subscription

• Following me on Instagram ♡

And if you’d like to partner with me on an issue of this newsletter, please send me an email over at eleycripps@gmail.com. I’d love to hear from you.

Lots of love, Eleanor x

I’ve been sitting with this idea lately, turning it over. Almost 38, and I’m only just beginning to understand it… this strange, quiet gap between the woman putting on the coat and the coat itself. We spend so much time on the clothes. The fit, the colour, whether this works with that. And almost no time on the mind and body doing the wearing.

A beautifully cut coat will always be a beautifully cut coat. But worn with ease, with a certain settledness, a kind of soft authority… it becomes something else entirely.

I’m not talking about confidence in the performative sense. I mean something smaller and more interior than that. The barely-there adjustments. Shoulders dropped and rolled back. Gaze level. Chin lifted. A breath taken slowly before you walk out the door. Not for anyone else, but simply to arrive in yourself before the day begins.

It sounds almost embarrassingly simple, and yet…

When it does come together. The garment and the body, the fabric and the feeling. Getting dressed stops being something you have to do and becomes something closer to a treasured ritual. A small, private act of noticing. Of deciding, before you’ve said a single word, that you’re completely and utterly worth the attention.

You can buy the most beautiful thing in the world and still feel like an imposter inside the garment. The clothes are only ever half the story. The other half lives in the moment before you leave the room. The hem straightened. The breath taken. The romanticism. The little touches. The almost imperceptible decision to stop bracing against yourself and to to settle into the feeling of being deserving of feeling good.

And so, I share this thought with you on a Monday morning in anticipation of this week. For the woman still learning to wear herself well. Give yourself this moment. Make it a little bit extra special.

Lots of love, Eleanor

Ps. Pop this playlist on when you’re getting dressed/ready for the day. It might inspire you to treasure the ritual, and have a little bit more fun.

If you enjoy reading The Art of Simple you might like to support my work by:

• Popping a like or comment on this post

• Sharing this with someone who might enjoy reading it

• Upgrading to a paid subscription

• Purchasing my new book Intuitive Dressing (shipping worldwide and only a few boxes left. They are printed locally in New Zealand and very special!)

• Following me on Instagram ♡

And if you’d like to partner with me on an issue of this newsletter, please send me an email over at eleycripps@gmail.com. I’d love to hear from you.

Hello beautiful readers,

I’ve hardly posted on social media this month, and honestly? It’s been one of the most quietly revelatory things I’ve done in a long time. I’m still on the apps. Mostly posting for my new role, which feels entirely different because the focus is outward, on building something beautiful for a brand I believe in. But the daily performance of myself has gone on pause, and I’ve barely missed it.

Fifteen years is a long time to show up online. And somewhere along the way, the ridiculously high expectation I placed on myself to be present, visible, charming, interesting (phew, just writing this down makes me feels silly!) became its own kind of weight on my shoulders. The algorithm wants reels and hooks and relentless consistency. It rewards the loud and the frequent. And it all just felt a but much. I just... stepped back for a moment. Let things go quiet.

And what remained, as it turns out, was a longing to write this newsletter. Which I love all the more for it. Writing to you here feels less like showing up and more like sitting down with a sweet milky cup of tea and having a catch up with a dear friend. It’s not lost on me, the irony of writing about slowness, simplicity and tender living, and yet having to show up on a platform that’s architecturally designed to make that impossible. I’m not leaving Instagram (well, not just yet). But some days, the thought is very appealing.

Anyway….May! A month of four birthdays to celebrate in our family. I’ve been slowly getting our house ready to sell (more on this soon!). And the World Surf League competition descending on our little town for the past few weeks ~ which was such a buzz, but I won’t pretend I’m not glad the sleepiness has returned. The mornings are properly cold now. I’ve been wrapping myself in wool, carrying my hot water bottle everywhere. The cover is getting absolutely tragic, I need a new one (perhaps this will be the go?) and making massive pots of soup and slow-cooked meals, the kind that fill the whole house with a delectable aroma. The simplest acts of self-preservation, really.

Wearing...

The most beautiful Lulu ring from Zoë and Morgan’s new Song of the Sea collection has barely left my finger. A gift that I will treasure forever. It’s a little larger than I’d usually go for. I’m not one for anything cumbersome. But I find myself looking down at my hands continuously and smiling.

On heavy rotation: the soft tailored trousers in cocoa from ANNIE. The drape, the fit, the fact that they have just the faintest stretch so they work equally well for pottering around the house as they do for actually going somewhere. They’ve slotted into my wardrobe as though they were always there. The mark of a truly good piece.

My Francie Loft cardigan, in what I can only describe as the perfect almost-black. I’ve always shied away from wearing black… found it a little stark against my colouring, but this shade has converted me entirely. Impossibly soft. Goes with everything. And while you’re on the Francie website, do take a moment to look at the series of four paintings by Wellington artist Briana Jamieson, painted in response to the Heirloom Jewels collection. They’re stunning.

Reading….

I devoured The Wedding People and it was such a glorious, heart-warming read. Highly recommend. I’m one chapter into Writers & Lovers, so I’ll let you know my thoughts in next months edit.

Watching...

As a child raised in the nineties, the Kylie Minogue documentary on Netflix was a fun watch. Her evolution, her resilience, the way she picked herself up after being written off and simply kept going. What a woman!

And a little winter window shopping…

This Samsoe Samsoe jacket. Suede, slightly flared sleeves, the perfect cropped length. I’m not sure I could ever actually justify spending that much ~ but a girl can dream, and this particular dream is rather lovely.

A sweet little basket bag from YSÉ Paris that appeared in my feed and has quietly refused to leave my mind. One can never have too many basket bags.

These heirloom tomato candles from Poppy and Sage. Imperfect in the most beautiful way, and yes, obsessed with the red of course. You know how I feel about red. Almost too beautiful to light.

And a new discovery that I had to share: Layla Poet, an Australian label that encompasses everything I love ~ lace, softness, whimsy, gentle romantic silhouettes. The Amelie dress has completely stolen my heart.

For when the warm weather returns: these little clog sandals from Seychelles in brown patent, filed away for summer and already eagerly anticipated.

And lastly, I recently tried on the ANNIE x Oosterom collaboration striped set: The Painter’s Shirt 2.0 and Petra Skirt in black, and felt immediately more grown-up and put-together. Deadstock silk cotton, designed and made right here in New Zealand, with that lovely combination of gentle structure and easy movement. A very special set indeed.

A small but important note...

Stock of Intuitive Dressing is running very low now. I’m down to the last few boxes, and I won’t be doing a reprint. If you’ve been thinking about ordering one for yourself or for a loved one, this is your gentle nudge. Shipping worldwide from my home to yours. → order your copy here.

If you enjoy reading The Art of Simple you might like to support my work by:

• Popping a like or comment on this post

• Sharing this with someone who might enjoy reading it

• Upgrading to a paid subscription

• Following me on Instagram ♡

And if you’d like to partner with me on an issue of this newsletter, please send me an email over at eleycripps@gmail.com. I’d love to hear from you.

Lots of love, Eleanor x

Over the years, my online shopping adventures have been a mix of delight and disaster. A blouse that looked ethereal on the screen but arrived feeling stiff and lifeless. Trousers that promised perfection, only to crease horrendously the moment I put them on. I have also ~ and this is the really embarrassing one ~ convinced myself, repeatedly, that a single purchase would fix something or magically transform my wardrobe. Spoiler: it didn’t!

1. Read the descriptions like a stylist. The photo is doing a job. Soft light, a model who’s 5’10”, fabric caught mid-billow. It is not showing you reality… it’s showing you potential. The description is where the truth lives. Fibre content, care instructions, lining or no lining. A “relaxed fit” on a model is usually not the same as a relaxed fit on your own body. Read every detail carefully.

2. Your measurements matter more than hers. I have mine saved in my phone. Shoulder width, waist, hip, inseam, and the exact skirt length that works on my frame. Not because I’m obsessive, because it cuts through the wishful thinking faster than anything else. The model is not you. That’s not a problem. It’s just useful information.

3. Set secondhand alerts before you buy new. Found something you love but can’t quite justify? Add the designer to an alert on whatever secondhand shops you use: Designer Wardrobe, TradeMe, Vinted, The RealReal. Then forget about it. Six months later, there it is ~ same thing, half the price, barely worn. This has happened to me more times than I can count. Patience is a genuinely good shopping strategy.

4. Only buy from stores with a good return policy. And then actually use it. This sounds obvious. It isn’t, really. How many of us have kept something that didn’t work because returning it felt like admin, or guilt, or both? If it doesn’t fit, if the colour is wrong in real light, if it just feels off: send it back without delay. Your wardrobe only deserves the pieces that are a full-body YES.

5. The one-week rule. Add to cart. Close the tab. If you’re still thinking about it the following Tuesday ~ not in a frantic I-need-it way, just in a quiet I keep coming back to it way ~ then consider buying. Most things don’t survive the week. That’s the whole point.

6. Moodboard it first. Before I buy anything, I drag the image into a Pinterest board alongside the things I already own, and the style images I love. Half the time, it looks wrong immediately. Clashing, or just… not mine. The other half, it slots in like it was always there. This takes about four minutes and has saved me from many, many mistakes.

7. Hold your phone up to your wardrobe. Literally. Open the image, stand in front of your clothes, look at them together. Can you see it with five things you already own? Not theoretically ~ but actually, right there? If you’re squinting and trying to make it work in your head, that’s your answer.

8. Find your designers. Stay loyal. There are brands that build quietly and well, season after season, without chasing anything. When you find them (and you will) go back. Learn their sizing, their fabrics, what cuts work on you. There’s a kind of ease that comes from buying from someone whose designs and styles you already trust.

9. Keep a list of what you actually need. Not a wishlist of beautiful things you want. A very specific list: cream linen trousers, a black merino cardigan, flat knee-high boots. When you’re browsing and something catches your eye, check it against the list. If it’s not there, ask yourself whether it’s the thing, or just the feeling of wanting a thing.

10. Learn to tell the difference between longing and need. Longing is the scroll. The open tab. The but maybe. Need is quieter. It doesn’t try to convince you. When you start to feel the difference ~ and it does become something you can feel intuitively ~ everything changes. You’re not filling a gap anymore. You’re just choosing well for yourself. And thats the difference.

Shopping online can be a complete mess of impulse and regret, or it can be something you do deliberately, even pleasurably. It’s mostly a matter of slowing down long enough to hear yourself think.

If any of this resonated… the slowing down, the choosing with intention, my book Intuitive Dressing might be for you. It goes further than shopping tips: it’s about your relationship with your wardrobe, with your body, with the way you want to feel when you get dressed. Essays, journalling prompts, space to figure out what you actually want. Printed here in Aotearoa, in limited numbers. I only have a few boxes left, and when they’re gone, they’re gone.

→ Get your very special copy here

Love, Eleanor xxx

There’s a word that’s been circling my mind lately: whimsy. It arrived quietly, as these thoughts often do ~ somewhere between the school run and my morning coffee, between folding laundry and realising we’re almost half way into this year already (where has it gone?!). By definition, whimsy is playfulness, lightness, imagination ~ often in defiance of practicality. But my personal definition, the one that feels truer to me, is this: the art of finding beauty in the everyday, and making the ordinary feel extraordinary.

As a 37-year-old mother of four, believe me when I say my days are full. Full in the best way, yes - but also jam-packed with responsibility, repetition, and routine. And yet, at least once a month, I find myself turning to my partner and saying, almost rebelliously, “Let’s just forget all of the boring adult stuff today and do something fun!” A small, joyful protest. A return to something lighter and more youthful-feeling.

I once read about someone who tells the dishes, “it’s bath time!” and I’ve never forgotten it. It still makes me smile and giggle each time I fill up the sink with soapy water. Because that’s what real whimsy is, isn’t it? It bubbles up from somewhere deep and unguarded. It doesn’t ask for permission. It simply is. And I think - especially in the colder months, when the days shorten and our moods can quietly dip - we need it more than ever!

When I’m stuck in a rut… scrolling, consuming, buying, or generally feeling unsatisfied, I notice something curious: this numbing way of living is what actually what makes life feel heavier. What I tend to need in those moments isn’t more discipline or structure. It’s softness, creativity and romance. And dare I say it: whimsy! For years, I affectionately called this living romantically. But lately, I’ve realised - whimsy holds its own kind of magic, doesn’t it?

So, with all this said, here are a few gentle ways I’ve been inviting more of it into my days this autumn…

Read more

There is a house I still think about all the time.

A small, run-down beach shack in Piha, with a retro kitchen that I painted bright yellow, and checkered linoleum floors, and a window that looks out towards Lion Rock. It wasn’t grand in any sense of the word. The ceilings were low, the rooms were shockingly tiny, and the exterior hadn’t been painted in years. But it was mine… wholly, quietly mine… in a way that felt significant after years of trying to figure out what that feeling even meant.

I moved there after my marriage ended, in my mid-thirties, with the particular bruised courage of someone who has just emerged from a truly confusing time and isn’t yet sure what will come next. Every morning I would pull on my wetsuit and walk down to the water. I would surf, badly some days and well on others, and then walk back up the path to that yellow kitchen to make coffee in my little moka pot and feel, for the first time in a long time, like myself.

I hosted cooking workshops in that kitchen. Six of them, around a vintage white tulip table with mismatched chairs, women gathered close, and the smell of something delicious and rustic on the stove. They felt full, and warm, and easy in the way things are when you’re doing something you’ve done for fifteen years and you know it by heart. I didn’t know, then, that they would be the last cooking workshops I hosted.

We moved to Raglan the week I found out I was pregnant with Bernie. Another beach town, and a beautiful one at that - more streets and houses, a school, two supermarkets even. On paper, not so different. But in reality, it felt like everything had changed. A completely different life that I didn’t feel ready for.

I advertised cooking workshops in our new home. I waited. And only one person booked (thank you to that kind friend for always supporting me - you know who you are!). I cancelled them, feeling sad and at a loss with my life. I remember the specific quality of that silence. Fifteen years of building something: the cookbooks, the café, the columns, the quiet steady proof that I was good at this… and in a new place, with a tiny baby growing in my belly and a surfboard I no longer used, none of it seemed to count.

I felt like my career was at a complete stand still. Like I had moved not just to a new town but to a new version of my life where I hadn’t yet earned my place.

This is what nobody tells you about reinvention: that it doesn’t always begin with a confident pivot or a clear vision. It begins in a kitchen where nobody showed up. It begins with the particular shame of having to quietly take down the event and pretend it didn’t happen.

I started over the only way I knew how. By following my heart, and the journey that was rediscovering myself through what I wore each day. This was something I felt I still had some kind-of control over. Even if my business was failing, I could still dress nicely and feel lovely, and that would (hopefully) give me the confidence I needed to work out what to do next.

For as long as I could remember, I have adored clothes. Not in a frivolous way, but in the way that some people love music or cooking (like I used to) or art, as a language, a mood, a quiet form of self-expression. Getting dressed has always felt meaningful to me, even when I couldn’t articulate why. Even in the hardest seasons, when I was burnt-out or uncertain or couldn’t remember who I was anymore, the simple act of choosing something beautiful to wear felt like a small act of faith. A declaration, however quiet, that I still mattered.

So I began writing about it. Tentatively at first, the way you test ice before stepping out onto it. I started working with women one-on-one, helping them sort through the clothes that no longer felt like them, making space for the ones that did. I wrote about the romance of dressing well, about the ritual of editing and curating your wardrobe, about how a soft knit or a soft and floaty dress can do something quietly profound for the way you move throughout you day.

And I think this is the only honest way to describe it. Every thought that I shared online, each client that I worked with, some part of me was braced for the moment someone would say: who do you think you are? Because let’s be honest, the fashion world can feel intimidating at the best of times! I lost followers by the thousands making this pivot, both on instagram and here in my newsletter list. I watched numbers fall that had taken years to build. Some days the doubt was just background noise. Other days it sat right at the front of me, loud and convincing, telling me I’d made a terrible mistake. That I should have stayed in the kitchen where I belonged.

I think about Piha sometimes, most days actually, on the mornings when Raglan still doesn’t quite feel like home. The yellow kitchen, the checkered floors, the path back up from the water. The version of me who lived there was healing and brave, and didn’t know yet what was coming.

But what I know now, is that the workshops with no sign-ups were not the end of the story. That the thing I was moving toward was worth every uncomfortable step of the journey to get there. That self-worth, it turns out, is not something you find once and keep. It’s something you find yourself returning to, again and again, like learning to surf. It’s a constant evolution of self. Some mornings, it comes easily. Others I have to walk all the way down to the water and dip my toes in to remember that anything is possible.

You don’t always get to see the line between the thing that broke you open and the thing that made you who you are today, but sometimes, if you’ve been paying attention, you can trace it all the way back.

A few weeks ago I started a new job. It’s in the fashion industry, and it’s my first proper employed position since before I can remember. I won’t pretend I didn’t sit in the car park on that first morning and feel the full weight of the distance travelled to find myself in this beautiful and exciting new chapter.

I share this not because my path is a blueprint (it isn’t) but because I know some of you are in the middle of your own quiet reinvention right now. Wondering if anyone is listening. Wondering if it’s too late. Wondering if it’s all worth it.

I hope you’ll believe me when I say: it is, and keep going.

You’re allowed to change your mind. Change your route. Put something down that no longer feels like you. Start again in a new town, or a new industry, or simply as a new version of yourself.

The rules were never really rules to begin with.

All my love, always, Eleanor xxx

Hello beautiful readers,

April has been quite the month around here. Full of change and a certain beautiful chaos that I won’t delve into today… you may have noticed I’ve been rather quiet, both in your inbox and online. I’m still here, I’ve just been leaning into simple joys. The things that keep me tethered when everything else feels like it’s moving quickly.

Anyway. I’ve been gathering this one slowly, piece by piece, and I’m so glad to finally land in your inbox with it (on the last day of the month, nonetheless!). One of the things I’ve been enjoying is getting a roll of film developed each month, and it’s become one of my favourite small rituals. You only have one chance with each frame, no deleting, no do-overs, and then the waiting. The anticipation of handing over that little canister and waiting patiently until it gets developed to view what you captured. Family moments, mornings down at the bay, outfits I’d half-forgotten wearing. I’ve fallen completely in love with the slowness of it.

This month’s newsletter has also turned into something of an unofficial gift guide. Mother’s Day is around the corner, and if I love these things, I have a feeling there’s a mother out there who will too.

So, let’s wander through it together!

Listening to...

Going Home by Twist. My partner has this wonderful encyclopaedic music knowledge, the sort where I’ll say “can you play something that sounds like this...” and he instantly knows the mood I’m after. It’s one of those things I quietly rely on him for, and I hope I never take it for granted.

Reading...

Two books ordered this month from Bookety Book Books — an online indie bookshop that makes finding new novels easy! The first is The Wedding People, which I chose purely because I needed something that would make me laugh. “An irresistible novel about love, friendship, dysfunctional families, and the unexpected paths that lead to happiness.” Sold. The second is Writers and Lovers by Lily King, because my romance novel obsession is very much alive and well. I’ll report back on both.

Wearing...

The Apartment by Abel has become my signature this month. A dark floral gourmand that their website describes as a “well-heeled cherry kiss.” White florals, velvet textures, the richness of rum and cacao. Frances, the founder, has such extraordinary knowledge of natural fragrance (who wants to wear synthetic chemicals every day?). I find her deep connection to her craft so genuinely inspiring!

I was also gifted the most beautiful oversized indigo denim jacket from Kowtow, and I’m having so much fun styling it. I had this silly rule for years about not wearing oversized pieces, but I’ve completely abandoned it. There’s something I love about layering something big and boxy over a delicate, feminine outfit… the contrast, the unexpected shape it creates. The Portrait Jacket in indigo, if you’d like to find it.

My Pharlain Lotus Cardigan has been on high rotation too. Soft, open-knit, with the most beautiful tapering at the waist and oversized bell sleeves. It reminds me a little of my dancer days, which makes me love it even more. And for layering underneath, the ANNIE Juni long-sleeve tee. Soft ribbed fabric, square neck, endlessly versatile. Can you tell I have a thing for a flattering neckline?

Making...

I’ve been refilling my homemade hot chocolate tin over and over this season. It’s become an afternoon ritual made on my La Marzocco in my little coffee corner which remains my most treasured area of the house. The recipe, since so many of you ask: simply a 50:50 ratio of good quality cocoa and coconut sugar. I stir with a little hot water to create a paste, then steam coconut milk to top it up. You could add a pinch of sea salt, a little vanilla, a whisper of cinnamon to the mix if you wanted to get really fancy, but honestly? It doesn’t need anything else.

Watching...

Mad Men. For the third time, all seven seasons, and I’m not remotely sorry about it. The soundtrack, the outfits, the slow-burn romances and the drama. I could watch it a million times over. I’ve also been dipping into Secrets of the Bees, a super-intriguing miniseries on Disney. I must have said “what the heck” and “that is insane” multiple times during the first epsiode. Mind-blowing stuff!

Admiring...

Australian designer Claire Perini’s renovated midcentury home, which is soaked in the most glorious seventies soul. The green is glorious!

These flower frog vases by Tony Sly, a local Raglan potter. Perfect for a handful of herbs, foraged leaves from the garden, or the final not-quite-dead blooms from a bunch that’s almost had its day. Generous and useful and beautiful all at once.

The Dina Tote from Loeffler Randall in chocolate, which I finally, after more than a year of coveting, treated myself to after an exciting work opportunity came my way. It hasn’t arrived yet and I’m already impatient. The sort of bag that makes you want to book a trip somewhere!

The Sweetheart Pouch from ANNIE (found at Found Store). Made from deadstock fabric in the most beautiful blue butter stripe. Small enough to feel elegant, interesting enough to be the thing people ask about. The kind of bag that earns its place at the very end of getting dressed.

The Long Sleeve Breton Tee from Maggie Marilyn in red apple stripe, which I’m waiting patiently to come into stock. I’ve had a short-sleeve MM stripe tee for years and it’s the sort of quality that holds up beautifully. Worn weekly, still soft and lovely.

And might I just pop a little mention in here about my book Intuitive Dressing being a fantastic gift for the mother, or special lady in your life?

Lastly! not a gift, but a mention about these glorious vintage snapshots of Meryl Streep on Vogue Australia. She is just so extraordinarily beautiful. My daughter Bella and I are off to see The Devil Wears Prada 2 very soon (I think it came out in cinemas today) and I cannot wait! Also, Bella turns 18 tomorrow! I cant believe I’ve been a mum for 18 years! I’m so fricken proud of her, and the beautiful young woman she’s become.

Well done for making it to the end, as always. I hope something here caught your eye, or gave you a small moment of pleasure?

If you enjoy reading The Art of Simple you might like to support my work by:

• Popping a like or comment on this post

• Sharing this with someone who might enjoy reading it

• Upgrading to a paid subscription

• Following me on Instagram ♡

And if you’d like to partner with me on an issue of this newsletter, please send me an email over at eleycripps@gmail.com. I’d love to hear from you.

Lots of love, Eleanor x

For a long time, my work life looked quietly impressive from the outside. A calm home office. Children at school and daycare. A flexible schedule that, in theory, belongs to me. But the truth is, there have been days where I’ve barely stood up between school drop-off and pick-up, except to refill my coffee and water glass. I used to to call it freedom, but looking back, I’d just rebuilt hustle culture in a prettier setting. I had no office, no boss, or no commute, but also no real boundaries within my day. Work spilled into evenings and weekends, and all the softer spaces where family life and rest should live.

Burnout is rarely dramatic; it arrives quietly, like a tide creeping up the sand while you’re too busy watching the horizon. Mine came in the form of constant fatigue, tense shoulders, a loss of creative spark, and a creeping sense that the work I previously loved was beginning to drain me. I realised that if I wanted a sustainable, inspired work life, one that felt nourishing rather than depleting, I would have to make some very necessary changes.

And so, I started weaving small, almost ceremonial pauses into my day. Tiny rituals that feel quietly indulgent, yet prove deeply essential. I can’t speak to a corporate environment - I’ve never worked in one - but I suspect these gentle anchors could slip into many kinds of workdays, whether you’re in an office, a studio, a classroom, or a home kitchen turned desk. They’re not about doing more, faster, they’re about arriving, fully and softly, into the work that’s waiting for you.

If I’ve learnt one thing in my career, it’s that a nervous system held in tension rarely creates beautiful work. Here’s what’s been helping me to find my creative and productive flow again…

Signal the start to your day

Each morning, I light a candle before I open my laptop. It’s a simple gesture, but it signals a beginning - an invitation to step into work with presence rather than urgency. When I finish, I blow it out. A soft closing, as I like to think of it. A reminder that my workday has an end.

Choose an intention

Before the world sets the tone for me: emails, notifications, headlines, and so-on, I choose an intention. Sometimes it’s practical: Today I lead with clarity. Other days it’s softer: Today I let my values guide me. These small phrases act like a gentle framework, guiding the way I move through tasks, conversations, and decisions.

Soothing sounds

I play a rotation of gentle playlists: piano, jazz, and lo-fi beats help to settle my nervous system before the mind begins its work. Calm, I’ve learned, is not the enemy of productivity, rather, it is its quiet companion!

Reset your nervous system

I learnt this tip a few years ago and it’s super-helpful. Several times a day, I step outside or simply look out the window and focus on something in the distance - the horizon, a tree, the movement of clouds. It’s a visual exhale. A reminder that there is a vast, beautiful world beyond my to-do list. Nothing in nature is rushed, and yet everything is accomplished. We too, can move in the same way.

Reframe your reactions

Before opening an email or message I’ve been avoiding, I close my eyes. Inhale deeply, exhale slowly. I soften my shoulders and straighten my back. It sounds almost too simple, but this little pause can change everything. It allows me to respond slowly rather than react quickly.

Time blocking

I’ve learned that my deepest creative focus always lives in short windows. Ninety minutes, sometimes two hours. After that, I’m basically useless without taking a break. I’ve started setting a timer, and actually honouring it. It makes such a difference!

Move your body

Between sessions, I step outside into the sunlight and take a brief walk around the block. Movement helps to clear the energy and give me perspective. I call them mini movement breaks.

Start with the creative work first

My last tip is to begin with the work that matters most: the needle-moving, creative tasks that require clarity and imagination. Admin and your inbox can wait. Ask yourself: What needs my clearest, calmest mind today? Begin there.

The quiet truth I’ve come to learn is this: softness is not laziness. These gentle rituals will not remove the demands of work, but they can certainly transform the way we experience it. Perhaps the most radical thing we can do, in a culture that worships hustle, productivity and speed, is to slow down, and say: I am allowed to work in a way that feels good. And in slowing down, I’m discovering that this is where clarity, creativity, and meaningful work begins.

Until next time, Eleanor x

Ps. Mother’s Day is just around the corner. Might I suggest my newest book Intuitive Dressing?

If there is a woman in your life who has spent years pouring herself out for everyone else ~ your mother, your sister, your closest friend, or simply you ~ this is the gift I would press into her hands.

It is part wardrobe guide, part gentle companion. There are no rules here, no rigid formulas. Just essays, musings and journalling prompts that invite you ~ or the woman you love ~ back to herself. One morning at a time.

Printed locally in Aotearoa, on eco-friendly paper. Independently made, with bucketloads of love.

Order your copy here → offering worldwide shipping, from my home to yours.

With love, Eleanor x

There is a version of risotto that asks nothing of you. No standing over the hob, no patient stirring, no watching the clock. Just rice and leeks and a handful of frozen peas tumbled into a dish with stock, a little lemon, and a generous scatter of parmesan, and then the oven takes over your job entirely.

I’ve been making this on weeknights when I want something that feels considered without requiring much of me. It comes out creamy, fragrant with mint, the leeks soft and sweet. What’s even better, is that once you have the basic recipe sorted, you can adapt easily using all kinds of different flavour combinations!

Ingredients:

• 1 1/2 cups Arborio rice

• 1 leek, finely sliced

• 1 cup frozen peas

• 1/2 red onion, finely sliced

• 1 lemon, quartered

• 1 cup grated parmesan* optional

• 4 cups veggie or chicken stock

• 2 cups of water

• 1 tbsp finely sliced fresh mint

• 2 tbsp finely sliced fresh parsley

• Extra virgin olive oil for drizzling

• Method:

Preheat the oven to 180C.

In a large baking dish, add all ingredients, and stir a few times. Drizzle with extra virgin olive oil and season with seal salt and cracked pepper.

Bake for 40-50 minutes, or until almost all the liquid has absorbed, and the rice is tender.

Allow to cool for 5 minutes before serving.

Serves 4-6

Ps. If you try this recipe, I’d love to know! Eleanor x

After two years of working closely with women. As a stylist, but also as a kind of quiet witness, I’ve come to understand this:

Clothing is never just clothing. It’s emotional. And deeply so.

Because what we wear isn’t just about practicality. It shapes the story we tell ourselves about who we are… and who we are allowed to be.

Shopping, in particular, carries a kind of emotional weight that is rarely acknowledged. It can feel light and playful one moment, and the next, heavy and quietly confronting.

I’ve seen women stand in a fitting room and question everything… not just the garment, but who they are worthy of being. I’ve also witnessed the beautiful shift that can happen…

A dress is slipped on.
A knit pulled gently over the shoulders.
And there it is.
That almost imperceptible change.
The shoulders drop.
The face softens.
The body relaxes.
And it’s so tenderly wonderful.
To see a woman comfortable in her own skin.

Because it’s not about how you look. Not really. It’s about recognition. A quiet, internal yes. A feeling of, oh… there you are. I think I’m ready to love you.

I believe this is what so many of us are longing for when we get dressed each day. Not perfection, but a sense of coming home to ourselves. And yet, many of us never learnt how to approach style in this way.

We were taught how to dress to flatter the body. To be appropriate. To be desirable, but not too much. Put together, but not trying too hard. To follow trends. To fix perceived flaws. To dress for the gaze of others (whether we realised it or not).

But rarely, have we been taught how to actually feel in our clothes. To notice how a fabric feels against our skin. To trust the quiet instinct that tells us what truly feels lovely.

1. Remove the pressure to buy

The next time you go shopping, release the expectation to buy something. Let it be an exploration instead. Something slower, more spacious. Try things on to simply experiment. Move in them. Sit, walk, catch your reflection in passing. Notice what happens in your body. The quiet language of it. Does something soften, almost imperceptibly? Or do you feel a tightening you can’t quite name? Shopping, in this way, becomes less about acquiring and more about listening. A gentle practice of learning how to feel.

2. Dress for sensation, not perception

So many of us have been taught to ask the same question, over and over: Does this look flattering? But there is a quieter, more honest question waiting underneath it. How does this feel? Not just in a surface way, but in the small, intimate details. The way the fabric rests against your skin. How it moves with your body as you move. Whether it invites ease, or asks you to hold yourself in a certain way. Does it feel soft and comforting, like something you can settle into? Or is there a sense of needing to be seen a certain way?

Over time, when you begin to anchor into sensation rather than perception, something lovely shifts.Your style becomes less about how it appears… and more about how it supports and holds you throughout your day.

3. Your wardrobe already holds all the wisdom

The internet will always have something to say… what’s in, what’s next, what you should be wearing. It can be inspiring, yes… but frankly, exhausting too!

Sometimes the most honest place to return to is your own wardrobe. The pieces you reach for, again and again. The colours you slip into without thinking. The silhouettes that feel like a small exhale. The ones that bring a quiet kind of confidence…nothing loud, just a steady sense of this feels right.

There’s a reason for that!

Those repeat pieces aren’t a problem to fix, they’re golden information. They reveal what truly works for your body, your rhythms, your actual, real life (not the idealised version you might dream-of). So instead of asking: what can I buy next? Try asking, why do I keep choosing this? Because when you start listening, your wardrobe becomes less confusing and far more illuminating. It holds all the secrets you are looking for. You can read more of my thoughts on this here.

If you enjoy reading The Art of Simple you might like to support my work by:

• Popping a like or comment on this post

• Sharing this with someone who might enjoy reading it

• Upgrading to a paid subscription

• Purchasing my new book Intuitive Dressing (shipping worldwide!)

• Following me on Instagram ♡

And if you’d like to partner with me on an issue of this newsletter, please send me an email over at eleycripps@gmail.com. I’d love to hear from you. Eleanor x

Hello lovely readers,

We’re headed away for the long weekend, and as I stood in front of my wardrobe this morning, I found myself thinking not about what to bring, but about how I want to feel while I’m away. Easeful. Comfortable. Like myself (romantic, relaxed, with a touch of vintage) yet softened and worn curiously by the change of scenery.

So I thought I’d share a peek into the process of how I pack. Not as a checklist, but as a gentle, loving approach. A way of gathering together a small, thoughtful wardrobe that holds you well, wherever you land!

Here’s everything that went into my bag:

• A soft pair of elasticated checked shorts.

• Vintage black dressy pants.

• Embroidered wide leg white pants.

• A soft and elegant chocolate-coloured tank top.

• My favourite mini dress that is an outfit on it’s own.

• A shimmery vintage top with cute buttons down the front.

• Two oversized shirts, one white, one striped.

• A soft knitted vest ~ perfect for layering.

• An oatmeal coloured sweater.

• Two pairs of shoes. Loafers and a red ballet flat.

• A sweet crochet bag that looks great with everything.

• Not pictured: sleepwear, vairous pairs of pretty socks to wear with the loafers, some sheer stockings and a few pairs of sunglasses.

You see, the truth is, I actually love packing for trips. For me, it feels a little like solving a tricky puzzle. Balancing practicality with style. Considering mood changes, weather shifts, and spontaneous plans, all while travelling light and keeping things simple.

Over the years, I’ve found that packing well isn’t about having more options ~ it’s about having considered ones. Pieces that work together, feel good on your body, and make getting dressed away from home feel easy and fun.

Packing, like getting dressed each day, doesn’t have to feel chaotic. It can be thoughtful. Gentle. Even enjoyable. The more time you allow for this process, the better off you’ll be. And perhaps that’s the real art of it.

1. Try everything on before it goes in the suitcase. This isn’t a time for guessing or imagining lofty outfit ideas that might not actually work in reality. You’ll instantly know what layers well, and can be worn in multiple ways.

2. Choose comfortable and lightweight layering pieces. A nice knit, pants, and/or a skirt that works with various pieces. A dress that transitions easily from day to night if needed. And of course, a good selection of tops ~ these are the key pieces that bring everything together. For me this looks like a good versatile shirt or two that can be thrown over outfits while simultaneously keeping the sun off my shoulders. A tank style top or basic tee in a neutral colour that works with everything. And sometimes a wildcard ‘statement’ style top can fun too if you feel like jazzing up your outfit.

3. Stick to a cohesive colour palette. Your favourite neutrals plus a few colours that you know and love well that make your outfits sing. For me this is usually something red, blue or yellow.

4. Only pack what feels good and comfortable on your body. If you haven’t worn it recently (in the last two months) it’s unlikely to make sense on your trip!

5. Let accessories be the magic. A silk scarf, earrings, pretty socks or an interesting bag can transform an otherwise simple look.

6. Be strategic with your footwear: 2-3 pairs that cover comfort, practicality and style. And don’t forget to try on your footwear with your outfits beforehand, too!

7. Lay everything on your bed. This helps you to see whether you have enough (or too much!). Try everything on again, and count how many real outfits you can create, rather than how many items you’ve packed.

8. And lastly, embrace intentional restraint. Fewer, better-chosen pieces, equals calm mornings, easy dressing, and more space to enjoy where you are!

If you enjoy reading The Art of Simple you might like to support my work by:

• Popping a like or comment on this post

• Sharing this with someone who might enjoy reading it

• Upgrading to a paid subscription

• Purchasing my new book Intuitive Dressing (shipping worldwide!)

• Following me on Instagram ♡

And if you’d like to partner with me on an issue of this newsletter, please send me an email over at eleycripps@gmail.com. I’d love to hear from you.

Wishing you a wonderful Easter weekend. I hope you eat far too much chocolate, and spend time doing what you love and makes you happy! Lots of love, Eleanor x

I’m popping into your inbox this morning with my favourite newsletter… the one I gather slowly over the month, piece by piece. And judging by your messages on previous editions, it might just be yours too! I’m always keeping a quiet little running list of bits and bobs ~ a collection of things that catch my eye or linger in my thoughts. A song I replay while making dinner. A stunning home interior that stops me mid-scroll. A meal that becomes part of our weekly rhythm. Basically, a jumbled collection of screenshots, scribbled notes, and small things I don’t want to forget. It brings me such a simple, steady kind of joy, adding to it as the days go by!

So, without further ado… let’s wander through it together.

Listening to…

Various songs by Ezra Furman. We’ve been watching Sex Education, and I keep remarking on how perfect the soundtrack is ~ only to discover that so many of the songs are hers. There’s something wonderfully raw and nostalgic about her sound. Begin with Be My Zero, then process to listen to this entire album.

I’ve also started a new playlist, Easing into Autumn. a gentle layering of songs that mirror the quiet shift in season. You’re so welcome to join me to listen there as I add new songs each day.

Reading…

Wild figs and fennel by Leticia Clark. My most recent cookbook purchase using a gift card that I had for Sabato (a brilliant specialty food store worth knowing about in Auckland if you haven’t visited yet). The book is filled with exquisite Italian recipes. I’m such a sucker for the soft and dreamy aesthetic of stunning cookbook: the look and feel, paper stock, little details such as a foiled title on the cover, and this one doesn’t disappoint! I haven’t felt much inspired to cook recently, but just ten minutes of gingerly turning the pages of this one, and I’m yearning for uninterrupted time in the kitchen.

Admiring…

This beautiful home tucked into the suburbs of Melbourne. I came across it while absentmindedly scrolling one afternoon. It’s one of those spaces you feel before you even take it in properly. To me, it has that rare balance I’m always trying to create in my own home… soft and lived-in, yet still pared back in all the right ways. Nothing feels overdone, nothing feels missing. Just a quiet kind of warmth. I’m also obsessed with blue fish kantha throw on the bed, I even managed to track it down on Etsy here!

Wearing…

The lusciously beautiful new Aura gloss from Aleph, I like to keep one in my handbag at all times. It’s low effort, but makes everything feel a little more luxurious, especially when I haven’t had time to put any other makeup on. I love the ember colour. Another handbag essential for me at the moment is a wee vial of Green Cedar from Abel. It’s a vibrant, aromatic woodsy scent.

I was recently gifted this beautiful Prairie Studio necklace stack (pictured above). Handmade by the lovely Holly. How sweet is this dainty bracelet, too. I did also include this sweet striped bow bag in the photo collage above from Kowtow, even though I don’t actually own one in my possession, however, it’s such a great price for a fun bag to add into your rotation.

Eating…

My roasted chicken noodle soup, fragrant with ginger, has been on steady rotation. It’s nourishing, comforting, the sort of meal that seems to restore everyone at the table. Another yummy chicken dish is a Thai red traybake pumpkin curry inspired by Jamie Oliver (always a win with the kids), and all the small, in-between things: sourdough toast layered with whatever we have on hand, softly scrambled eggs with chives from the garden, grilled halloumi drizzled with honey and chilli (I made a reel of this here!). I could never tire of fancy things on toast.

Watching…

I’ve been a bit under the weather this past week, and so I’ve been watching all the comforting nostalgic romcoms. I love that my 17-year-old daughter loves to watch them with me! In the past 7 days, we’ve laughed our way through Confessions of a Shopaholic, 27 Dresses, Sweet Home Alabama, and Runaway Bride. I especially love getting inspired by all the 90s and early 2000s outfits.

Coveting…

The abundance of sartorial delights online thanks to new season releases. The seasonal shift has brought with it so many beautiful pieces (especially from all the New Zealand designers that I love) and I’ve found myself quietly taking it all in. Truthfully, I feel the most at ease with my wardrobe than I have in a long time. It feels cohesive, and like an honest reflection of my style at the moment, so I’m not looking to add many pieces this winter. But it’s always fun to look, don’t you think! Here’s everything I’ve been admiring…nothing urgent, just a gentle kind of inspiration that I can think about (usually for far too long) before actually making any purchases.

Clockwise from bottom left:

1. The prettiest crochet bag from Nanita (I’ve just ordered the white version and am patiently waiting for it to arrive).

2. The nicest little notebook from Garden Objects for scribbling notes in.

3. Keep your noggin cosy this winter in this luxurious possum, merino and silk beanie from Francie.

4. If you’re a coffee-lover, and are looking for a sweet mug to add to your collection, you might like this petal design from Le Creuset.

5. Elevate your coffee ritual even further with this stunning Alessi mocka pot (this has been on my wishlist for years!).

6. A perfect example of stylish simplicity: the sherpa style cropped jacket from Australian label Friends with Frank.

7. A freshwater pearl necklace from Prairie Studio.

8. Fun stockings are always a fantastic way to inject fun into your cold-weather wardrobe. I love these lace ones from Farmers.

9. Doesn’t the leather look so soft and buttery on these elegant boat shoes from Tory Burch? I also like the pink colour.

10. And last but not least, the a little black mini dress from one of my favourite New Zealand designers Dominique Healy. I have the singlet version of this dress and the neckline is so elegant and flattering.

Well done if you made it to the end of this newsletter! I hope something tickled your fancy, or made you feel creatively inspired? Wishing you a wonderful Sunday!

If you enjoy reading The Art of Simple you might like to support my work by:

• Popping a like or comment on this post

• Sharing this with someone who might enjoy reading it

• Upgrading to a paid subscription

• Purchasing my new book Intuitive Dressing (shipping worldwide!)

• Following me on Instagram ♡

And if you’d like to partner with me on an issue of this newsletter, please send me an email over at eleycripps@gmail.com. I’d love to hear from you.

Lots of love, Eleanor x

Last night, after everyone had gone to bed, I walked quietly through the house resetting the rooms.

A blanket folded over the couch.
A stack of books returned to the bookshelf.
Miscellaneous toys returned to the basket.

The kitchen bench had collected the evidence of a full day of living: lunchboxes holding sandwich crusts, various school notices, a tiny rock someone must have placed there for some unknown reason.

I cleared the surface slowly, almost absentmindedly. And for a moment, the house was calm again. And then I laughed to myself, because I knew what tomorrow morning will bring. Four children will wake up. Breakfast crumbs will scatter around the kitchen. The lego will find it’s way under my feet. Half finished cups of tea will be placed somewhere to go cold. Life, as it always does, will begin all over again.

Having four kids means my home is in a near-constant state of becoming undone. Honestly, you can guarantee there will be laundry multiplying quietly in the corner like some kind of domestic magic trick. And yet, people often ask me how I keep my home so tidy.

The truth is… I don’t! Not perfectly, anyway. But there are certainly habits (or rituals, I prefer to call them) that have helped me to keep the mess somewhat manageable over the years.

Here are the things that work for me…well most of the time, anyway!

The single biggest difference-maker is also the simplest: owning less.

It might sound obvious, but having fewer things makes the biggest difference. I’m constantly decluttering - it’s a daily habit. No matter how minimal I dream of being, new objects always find their way into the house (school projects, birthday gifts, random rocks and sticks from the beach… to name a few). Keeping a “giveaway” bag somewhere handy makes it easy to toss in an item here and there, ready for the next op shop drop. If you don’t love or use something often, let it go! You might be surprised at how quickly the bag fills up!

This brings me to the “one in, one out” rule.

For every new toy, book, or clothing item that comes into the house, it can be helpful to encourage your kids (and yourself!) to consider if there’s something they would like to giveaway. Not only does it keep clutter in check, it teaches them to value their belongings. I like to think of this as a gentle lesson in living simply.

Fewer toys, happier children

This one surprised me (and took me years to learn). For a long time I assumed more toys meant more entertainment. But the opposite turned out to be true. When there are too many choices, children seem to lose interest entirely. These days, we keep a single basket of toys in our lounge for our baby Bernie, and rotate them every now and then. When the toys return after a little break, it’s like Christmas morning all over again.

The same goes for the older kids arts and crafts collection, and lego etc. I keep everything in colourful crates that stack upon one another, and when the inevitable “I’m bored” happens, I can pull one of them out and the activity feels like new again.

Change your mindset on the matter

Now before you roll your eyes, hear me out ~ I truly believe mindset changes everything. If cleaning feels like a chore, we avoid it. But when it becomes a small ritual, something shifts, it becomes more enjoyable. Sometimes I light a candle. I always put music on. And instead of rushing through it, I try to imagine I’m creating a home I want to step into and cherish deeply. More recently, it’s been heartening to see the kids start to instill the same kind of love into their own spaces, too!

Clear your high traffic areas

Every home has a surface that attracts clutter like a magnet. In our house, it’s the kitchen counter. If I can keep that one space relatively clear, the entire house feels calmer. It’s strange how powerful one small surface can be. You don’t need to tidy everything. Just choose the high traffic area in your home and care for those first. Whether it’s the dining table, the coffee table, or the kitchen bench. The rest tends to follow.

The three minute rule

This is the simplest, most attainable trick I know, and possibly the most effective. Set a timer for three minutes. Then tidy one tiny area with complete focus ~ the bathroom mirror, the junk drawer, the kitchen splashback. Three minutes feels almost laughably short. But done daily, it makes a tremendous difference. Small care, layered over time, creates a home that feels quietly tended.

If it takes less than a minute, do it straight away

I’ve learnt to weave little moments of cleaning into the day. A quick wipe while cooking dinner. A sweep after breakfast. Putting laundry away straight after folding it. If something takes less than a minute, I try to do it right then. It’s become such second nature that my kids now tease me about “cleaning without even noticing.” They’re not entirely wrong.

And finally ~ sometimes you just have to embrace the mess

This is the part I’m still learning. With more than a few kids, our home will never stay spotless for long. And honestly, I’m not sure I want it to. There is life in the mess. Laughter around the kitchen table. Small treasures gathered in pockets and dropped on the bench. The trick, I think, is not eliminating the chaos ~ but creating small pockets of calm within it. Little breathing spaces. Because one day, when the house is quiet again, we may find ourselves missing the noise!

If you enjoy reading The Art of Simple you might like to support my work by:

• Popping a like or comment on this post

• Sharing this with someone who might enjoy reading it

• Upgrading to a paid subscription

• Purchasing my new book Intuitive Dressing (shipping worldwide!)

• Following me on Instagram ♡

And if you’d like to partner with me on an issue of this newsletter, please send me an email over at eleycripps@gmail.com. I’d love to hear from you.

Lots of love, Eleanor x

Happy Sunday, lovely readers!

This has been the first week I’ve properly felt the cold in the mornings. The kind of chilliness that settles into your bones and makes you wrap yourself up in your blankets a little tighter before rolling out of bed. I’m always surprised by how completely I forget this feeling over summer… how the memory of crisp air and misted windows disappears, and then, all at once, it returns.. and with it, the exciting, familiar longing for all-things-cosy.

I’ve been pulling out my old favourite knits from my wardrobe, and oh how I forgot how much I loved them! Like treasured, dear friends! The soft oat-coloured sweater I wore almost daily last winter. The chocolate-coloured oversized sweater that seems to go with everything. The cashmere purple pullover that holds sweet memories of winter strolls down at the bay and visits to our local produce market.

I would go so far as to say that I have a slightly obsessive relationship with my knitwear. Of all the pieces in my wardrobe, it’s absolutely, without-a-doubt the category I invest in most carefully. Because thoughtfully chosen knitwear can do something that no other garment is able to replicate ~ it can hold you dearly. The softness, texture and structure can transform even the simplest outfit. Like self-tending to the part of you that needs to be loved the most. Perhaps you can relate? Is this something you have experienced in your own wardrobe and style, too?

And yes, unless you happen upon a beautiful piece secondhand (which is always the dream, isn’t it?), truly good knitwear can be very expensive. I understand that pause before purchasing; I’ve felt it myself, standing in a changing room weighing desire and longing against practicality. But I’ve learned to return, always, to the important consideration of cost-per-wear. The knits crafted from heirloom quality wool, cotton, and other natural fibres have stayed with me for years. They’ve softened, settled, and shaped themselves to my life. When cared for properly, they hold their form and beauty in a way that fast fashion pieces simply can’t replicate.

And so, I build my collection slowly and tenderly, piece by piece. I treat each knit as something precious, because it is! And over time, as my small, thoughtful collection begins to take shape, something truly lovely happens: I come to know each piece intimately. I know the gentle weight of the yarn on my shoulders, the softness against my skin, the quiet reassurance a jumper might bring on even the coldest of days. Warmth, simply for the sake of being warm, is no longer an afterthought. I am consumed by the deep pleasure of dressing for indulgence.

I could sit here, typing for hours about my love affair with knitwear, but instead, I’m going to share a treasure trove of visual joy for you to peruse instead. These are all the knitwear and winter accessories I’ve had my eye on, labels I’ve come to know and love. Pieces that feel timeless and beautiful, and that are absolutely worth saving your pennies for!

Firstly, I want to share a special mention to my favourite NZ knitwear brand Francie, who just launched their new chapter a few nights ago. I own the Dolls Jumper and it is, without question, my most worn knitwear piece. I cannot believe how beautifully it has held up over the years. No pilling. No misshaping. Just impeccable quality that looks as gorgeous now as the day I added it to my wardrobe. The campaign shoot is stunning ~ captured at Vitrine (an antique and mid-century furniture store). The collection is titled Heirloom Jewels, and as always, I love the understated elegance of their designs ~ just look at the detail on the buttons pictured above ~ my heart!). This isn’t sponsored, I just adore everything they create. Check out the first drop of the collection here.

Alright, now onto my collages. I spend days, sometimes weeks creating these edits! Honestly, far too long. I do adore creating them so I’m not complaining. I hope you might find something that pleases you?

Clockwise from bottom left: Nikki Chasin Sheba cardigan, Maguire Sevilla boots, Christy Dawn vest, Bonnie Clyde sunglasses, handspun mug, Mahsa Dune Shirt, STH cove jumper, Mimmi raffia bag, Jaggery Carmen cardigan, Little Yarn strapless dress.

Clockwise from bottom left: Gillian Stevens Bailey vest, Cos dark blue cardigan, Maggie Marilyn cashmere V-neck, Sheepskin wool hat, Christy Dawn Nola cardigan, Lisa Says Gah white dress, Margesherwood bowling bag, Nikki Chasin colour block vest, Nikki Chasin knit pants, Pony Hair style ballerinas, & Other Stories pleat trousers.

Clockwise from bottom left: Claudie Pierlot leopard-print buckle shoes, STH Cove cardigan, Mimmi raffia bag, L’Envers Stephanie oversized sweater, Nancy Bird Iris cardigan, Francie Daisy scarf, STH knit cami, Loeffler Randall zebra cardigan, Lovaan Zarah jumper, Dominique Healy mini skirt, Francie red loft cardigan.

Clockwise from bottom left: Jaggery Margo Jumper, Freja NYC bag, Francie dolls cardigan, STH boathouse navy tee, Le Bon Shoppe Amelie cardigan, Caves Collect Rufus knit, Le Bon Shoppe socks, Loeffler Randall ballet flats, & Other Stories pleated wool mini skirt, Rita Row Erin vest.

To wrap up, I’ll leave you with this one simple thought: this cold season doesn’t have to be something to endure! I hope this encourages you to see it as a beautiful opportunity to love yourself through how you dress each day. To layer thoughtfully. To choose softness. To take the extra moment in the morning to reach for the piece that makes you feel extra looked-after. A big, warm, cosy embrace! And I, for one, am very much ready to wrap myself in it!

I’d love to know, what are your favourite knitwear brands?

If you enjoy reading The Art of Simple you might like to support my work by:

• Popping a like or comment on this post

• Sharing this with someone who might enjoy reading it

• Purchasing my new book Intuitive Dressing (shipping worldwide!)

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And if you’d like to partner with me on an issue of this newsletter, please send me an email over at eleycripps@gmail.com. I’d love to hear from you.

Lots of love, Eleanor x

And if I’m honest, this is the habit that makes me want to slip quietly away from this space, more times than I care to confess.

Because the truth is, I am a chronic over-thinker.

Not in the charming, contemplative sense. Not in the way that suggests depth and careful discernment. From the outside, it might seem almost admirable… measured, thoughtful, responsible. The woman who has considered every angle. The one who will not be caught unprepared. But internally, it feels less like wisdom and more like paralysis.

Overthinking is a peculiar habit because it disguises itself as virtue. It masquerades as diligence. It whispers that if you just evaluate one more variable, rehearse one more scenario, refine one more sentence, you might be able to avoid discomfort altogether. But truly, it isn’t a useful kind of contemplation. It’s the spiralling kind. The kind that siphons all your energy and leaves you feeling completely and utterly depleted. Perhaps you can resonate?

As a mother of four where time is a sacred resource, I’ve started to notice something confronting: the most exhausting part is not making the “wrong” decision. It’s the hesitation. It’s the way decision fatigue settles into the body ~ heavy, invisible, cumulative. The hours (sometimes years) spent circling a decision. Rehearsing all the outcomes in my head. Trying to mitigate regret or embarrassment before it has even had the courtesy to arrive.

Meanwhile, life continues on in its unbothered rhythm. It does not pause while we deliberate! The days flow. Opportunities shift. Seasons turn. Life, it seems, is less interested in our perfection, but more in our participation. Because every decision, even the ones we later reframe as mistakes, they carry us somewhere new. Every wrong turn holds beautiful lessons, revelations, a sharpening of personal instinct…

But when you stay stuck in the loop of overthinking? It only deepens your self-doubt. And I have grown so tired of doubting (and not trusting) myself! So for 2026, I am loosening my grip on perfection. I’m trusting that clarity will meet me after I make a decision, not before. Because perhaps the real regret isn’t in choosing incorrectly, It’s in waiting so long that you forgot you had the power to choose at all!

Tell me I’m not the only one who experiences this?

If you’re an over-thinker too, I have something gentle to offer. Here are 5 ways to stop the endless loop of overthinking (I’ve found them tremendously helpful to interrupt the pattern).

Read more

Introducing ~ Dressing Diaries ~ a little mini series here for Substack, where I’ll share the small thoughts, observations, and gentle formulas that have helped me get dressed with more ease over the years. Nothing complicated, just the quiet things that make everyday dressing feel a little more joyful.

Here’s my first diary entry: thoughts on creating that ‘undone’ look that feels both effortless and quietly chic.

I’m sure you know what I mean… that softly assured way some women dress, as though they slipped into their clothes without too much thought, and yet somehow they look completely captivating. There’s a natural ease to it. Nothing feels forced or overworked.

I’ve always been drawn to this kind of style. The kind that feels lived-in and comfortable, but still considered. The kind that doesn’t try to impress, yet leaves an impression anyway.

Because, what if effortless style is simpler than you think?

I recently read about a concept called chill/modern/classic ~ a style philosophy so beautifully articulated by Tibi to compose a well-balanced outfit. Once you start to see it, you notice it everywhere. Here’s what this might look like…

Something chill brings that relaxed sense of ease: the piece that softens everything. Think worn-in denim, loose curls or a slightly messy bun, a half-buttoned shirt, a casual tote or basket bag. It’s the element that makes an outfit feel soft, lived-in, and unpretentious.

Something modern adds interest: a subtle point of contrast that keeps things feeling unique. Maybe it’s a pair of chic sunglasses, a structured bag, colourful shoes, or an unexpected silhouette or fabric. Just a small touch that catches the eye.

Something classic to ground the look: the timeless piece that brings a sense of familiarity and timelessness. A beautifully tailored shirt, simple ballet flats, a striped tee, a well-fitting blazer. These are the pieces that quietly hold everything together and feel enduring rather than trendy.

Here’s a few examples from my Pinterest board (peruse it here).

When you begin to experiment with these elements, you might notice something shift. Outfits come together with more ease. Pieces you’ve owned for years start to feel new again. It’s like looking at your wardrobe through a slightly different lens, one that invites a bit more play, a bit more creativity. Getting dressed becomes less about “figuring it out” and more about gently bringing things into balance. For me, this way of thinking has taken so much pressure off. It’s made getting dressed feel lighter, more intuitive, and ~ dare I say ~ a little more whimsical!

And perhaps that’s the real magic of it. Not perfection, just familiarity and ease.

If you feel like giving this concept a go, start small, and with a sense of curiosity. Next time you’re standing upon your wardrobe, see if you can spot one relaxed piece, one classic piece, and one modern touch for your outfit. Allow yourself the time to try different combinations (and always check how it looks in a full length mirror!). Notice how it feels. Tweak if necessary.

I’d love to know if this helps you? and do share your outfits and revelations with me if do, I love reading your messages.

On a side note - with Autumn approaching in a few days, I’m starting to do an edit of my wardrobe, and thinking about the pieces I might like to add. For me, it’s always an extremely slow and intentional process, I think about each item for weeks, sometimes months before I pull the trigger. I wondered if you’d like me to share the pieces I’m considering/have my eye on at the moment?

If you enjoy reading The Art of Simple and would like to show your support for my work:

• Pop a like or comment on this post

• Share with someone who might enjoy reading it

• Upgrade to a paid subscription

• Follow me over on Instagram

And if you’d like to partner with me on an issue of this newsletter, please send me an email over at eleycripps@gmail.com. I’d love to hear from you!

Wishing you a wonderful start to the week,

Eleanor x

Hello lovely ones,

As I send this to you on Valentines Day, this month’s edit is (unsurprisingly) inspired by all things romantic. But the older I get, the more I feel that romance isn’t something reserved for a single day of the year, it’s something that quietly weaves through the everyday if we allow it. I see it in small rituals, in getting dressed with care, in styling a simple plate of food, in gentle conversations with the people I love (and with myself, when I remember). Romance, to me, is intentional attention. A willingness to notice beauty, to let it move you in even the most ordinary of moments.

With all that said… I’ll still happily lean into the Valentines mood, I’m not resisting it one bit! So, for this newsletter, I’ve gathered all the lovely things I’ve been noting down recently, and arranged them artfully into a pretty mood board. Pour yourself a nice hot drink, and let’s wander through it together…

1. I recently stumbled across this charming midcentury home feature, and it stopped me in my tracks. The sunken lounge with built-in seating…It’s the living space I’ve always dreamed of. I can imagine children curled up with books, friends gathered around a cheeseboard, late afternoon light pooling across the floorboards. The soft colour palette feels both grounded and intimate, at the same time.

2. I find trench-like raincoats impossibly romantic. The idea of throwing one over a white dress, pulling on a tall pair of gumboots, and splashing through puddles is a lofty vision I hold in my mind for this coming winter. The Lou Coat pictured above has captured my heart recently ~ that classic check, the effortless silhouette. A perfect transitional piece. Practical, yes. But also… incredibly beautiful. Special mention also for these lovely velvet ballerina flats.

3. I’ve adore geraniums. Did you know they are also known as the flower of love? I have a bright red and a soft pink variety growing in our courtyard, and they bring such joy each day as I peer out the kitchen window. A few years ago I discovered C.Atherley ~ an entire store dedicated to the love of geraniums. The garden tool bag is charming (though I suspect I’d use it as a day bag, I don’t really own gardening tools!). And the note cards would be so lovely tucked into gifts, or even placed inside pretty vintage frames and placed in small corners of the home.

4. I’ve been quietly admiring the work of Karyn Lyons. Her paintings feel mysterious and whimsical, all at once. I love the softness of her brushstrokes, but also the depth ~ the moody colours that seem to hold stories just beneath the surface.

5. On a rainy afternoon last week, I watched The Friend starring Naomi Watts ( I just love her!). She stars as Iris, a New York writer who loses her lifelong friend and unexpectedly inherits his Great Dane, Apollo. The film is slow moving, and there’s an underlying melancholy, but also warmth and tenderness, especially in the quiet companionship between Iris and the dog as they navigate grief.

6. We often think of jewellery as something to buy as something special for someone else, but I think there’s something so indulgent and loving about treating yourself to a single beautiful piece of jewellery ~ whether second-hand, vintage, or newly made ~ that feels like an act of self- devotion. I recently discovered Elizabeth Hall Jewellery and am having a special piece made to order: the Comfort Ring. I love that it’s designed for wearability, something you can live in, cook in, mother in, work in. I’ve also had my eye on this delicate bracelet from Charlotte Penman ~ a local jeweller who I’ve always admired for her dainty, feminine pieces.

7. I’ve been listening to the preview of the new album Full Circle by Tom Misch. Slow, soothing, mellow neo-soul. Jazzy, cruisy, any-time-of-day tunes ~ the kind of music that makes you sway slightly as you wash the dishes or slice peaches for an afternoon snack. I especially enjoy the track Sisters With Me.

8. This month’s gentle styling tip? When your outfit feels lacking and a little flat, add something vintage. The outfits I’ve loved most always have a vintage moment. A second-hand blouse with delicate buttons, an old leather belt, a silk scarf found in a dusty shop corner…second-hand pieces carry character and nostalgia. They soften an outfit and tell a story. And in my experience, it’s the easiest way to weave individuality into your style in a way new garments sometimes can’t quite achieve. Even one small vintage detail can change the entire mood. Tell me, do you have a cherished vintage piece that you love?

   Leave a comment

Order your book here

And lastly ~ a little offering for you. For one more day only, I’m offering FREE shipping worldwide for my book, Intuitive Dressing. If you’ve been wanting to gift yourself (or someone you love) this gentle guide to dressing with intention, simplicity and joy ~ now is the time. Shipping daily from my home to yours, wherever you are in the world. Click here to purchase a copy!

With love,
Eleanor 🤍

Every so often, I open a small window on Instagram and invite your questions in. And each time, what arrives feels less like a Q&A and more like a handwritten letter slipped under the door… softly curious, quietly vulnerable, brimming with the kind of questions that many of us are thinking, but don’t always chat about!

You ask about style and clothes, yes ~ but also about becoming. About homes and habits and how to feel more like yourself again, in the middle of ordinary, beautiful, unruly life. Lately, I’ve been thinking about how style, homemaking, and self-expression are not separate pursuits, but threads of the same tapestry. Ways of tending to the body, the home, and our inner desires. Small acts that signal: I am here. And all of this matters.

So today, I’m answering some of your most-asked questions… gently, honestly, without instruction or perfection. Just reflections from where I stand, and the quiet things I’ve learned along the way.

Answers include…

• How to dress a body that has changed.

• Letting go of old clothes and old identities.

• Cultivating slowness in the midst of motherhood’s beautiful chaos.

• Beginning a side hustle without losing the romance of your life.

• How I’m approaching this year ~ I answer this one vulnerably.

• My favourite New Zealand brands.

• Budget-friendly labels that still feel elevated.

• How to dress well in the height of summer.

If you’ve ever wondered how I approach style, keeping a gentle home, or building a creative life that feels romantic and real, this newsletter is for you!

Read more

The start of a new year always brings with it a gentle urge to declutter. To clear out what no longer serves, and make space for what does. If you, like me, have been in a January editing phase with your wardrobe, you might have noticed something quietly powerful: true style often reveals itself in what goes out, not what comes in.

If you’ve been around these parts for a while, you’ll know how much I believe in the quiet power of letting go. The act of keeping only the clothes I truly love and actually wear has a way of clarifying everything: my mood, my style, even how I move through my days. There’s something deeply grounding (and quietly confidence-boosting) about starting the year with fewer, lovelier things. A wardrobe that feels intentional and honest about the life I’m really living ~ not the imagined version of myself I once dressed for.

There’s a pattern I’ve noticed over the years ~ both in my own closet and in conversations I have with women every day. No matter how many pieces we own, we tend to reach for the same small handful, again and again. Five pieces, perhaps fewer. Sometimes we love them. Sometimes we’re utterly bored of them.
But when it’s early in the morning and we haven’t had our coffee yet, if we’re short or time, or we simply want to feel comforted ~ these are the clothes we instinctively choose (but often don’t consider why).

For a long time, I thought this meant my wardrobe was incomplete. That I was missing something. That I needed to keep refining, updating, adding. But the truth is far more illuminating.

Those repeat pieces aren’t a problem to solve. They’re golden information!

They quietly reveal what actually works ~ for your body, your lifestyle, your daily rhythms, the life you’re truly living right now, not the imagined one that might have perviously purchased clothes for.

Was it the ease of the silhouette… how it never asked too much of me. The softness of the fabric, familiar and comforting against my skin. The colour that I instinctively know suits me. Or the way it slipped seamlessly into a real, ordinary day of school drop-offs, answering emails, cooking dinner, and the rest?

You see, once you start discerning the why behind your most worn pieces, you can’t unsee it. Your wardrobe stops feeling uninspired, and starts to feel communicative. This is where things can become both interesting and confronting.

So many of us shop for an idealised version of ourselves. A woman with more time. More elegance. A different life entirely. We buy for her aspirational days, not our actual ones. And those pieces ~ beautiful as they may be ~ often end up unworn. Hanging quietly. Waiting for a life that never quite arrives.

And trust me, I know this because I’ve done it many times. Whenever I ignored the lessons my repeat pieces were trying to teach me, I added things into my wardrobe that never stood a chance. They weren’t wrong, per se, they simply didn’t belong to my real life.

But when I honour those lessons? When I let my non-negotiables guide me?
Getting dressed feels calmer. Clearer. Beautifully intuitive. With time, my wardrobe became a place of ease rather than decision fatigue. I add fewer pieces ~ but I wear them far more.

To me, this is the most meaningful shift in personal style. Not chasing trends. Not endlessly refining an aesthetic. But learning how to listen, truly and honestly, to myself. Friend, your wardrobe is already telling you what you need, but only if you’re willing to pay attention!

So here’s my gentle invitation ~

Rather than rushing to the next purchase, I invite you to pause here.
To sit with your wardrobe as it is ~ not as something to fix, but as something to listen to.

Below are seven questions I return to whenever I do decide to intentionally add something new to my wardrobe. They’re less of a checklist and more of a quiet lens. But also, wildy helpful in all kinds of ways. Think of them as a way to bring clarity back into a process that so often feels rushed and confusing.

I encourage you to save them to notes in your phone, and return to them the next time something catches your eye and you feel that familiar urge to buy. Let them illuminate what you already know intuitively ~ but perhaps haven’t yet named!

1. Does this item reflect my style vision?
   Does it embody the words I’ve chosen to describe my style anchors? Whether playful, romantic, minimal, or luxurious, every garment should tell the story of how you wish to feel when you wear it (if you have no idea what your style vision is, you’ll benefit from reading my new book!).

2. Is it the best quality I can afford?
   If I wouldn’t buy it full price, I don’t usually buy it. I’d much rather have one beautiful, quality piece that stands the test of time, rather than four or so cheaper versions of it that don’t end up being adored.

3. Does it work for the life I actually live?
   Day-to-day life is the true test. Does this item serve your current routine, your climate, your practicalities ~ or is it a dream outfit for a life you don’t actually live?

4. Will I love it beyond the trend?
   Trends come and go, but your wardrobe should endure. Ask yourself: will this piece still make me smile next season? If the answer is uncertain, it’s a signal to pause and think about it a little longer.

5. Does it honour my body?
   Slip it on. Does it feel soft against your skin, flattering yet comfortable, easy to move and breathe in? Your wardrobe should support you, not confine you.

6. Can it be worn in multiple ways?
   A truly wise purchase is versatile. Can it combine with at least five existing pieces in your current wardrobe? I find it handy to have a photo in my phone of my wardrobe which I can refer to as a visual when shopping.

7. Is it a resounding YES?
   If there is hesitation, if you find yourself hoping it will “work later,” the pause has spoken. Wait for at least a week, or longer. Sometimes I think about something I’ve had my eye on for months before pulling the trigger! If trying the item on in person, feel into what your body and mind tells you as soon as you’ve tried it on. Is it a full-body heck yes I adore this item, or are you unsure? The more you feel into your intuition, the better you get at it.

Thanks for being here. For reading slowly. For considering your wardrobe ~ and yourself ~ with a little more tenderness. If this piece stirred something, I’d love for you to sit with it over the coming days. Notice what you reach for. Notice what feels effortless and good on your body. Notice what shifts your mood and helps you feel like the loveliest version of yourself. There is so much wisdom here. I hope it will help you let-go of the garments in your wardrobe that are like a rainy cloud covering your beautiful blue sky.

If you’d like to go deeper, you can order my book Intuitive Dressing, or book a gentle one-on-one styling session with me. Both are designed to help you feel calmer, clearer, and more at home in what you wear.

Until next time,

Eleanor x