The Art of Slow Luxury: Why Fewer, Better Things Are The New Definition of Style

On a crisp morning in the Cotswolds, I wrap myself in a Johnson’s of Elgin cashmere blanket I’ve owned for more than a decade. The fabric is soft and lived in, the style timeless. As I walk through the garden, early morning dew clings to the edges of the herb beds and the air carries that distinctive, clean scent you only find in the countryside. There’s a quiet joy in knowing this blanket has accompanied me through so many seasons — and will continue to do so for many more.

In a world of next-day deliveries, seasonal micro-trends, and the constant hum of “new in” alerts, choosing to slow down feels almost rebellious. For years, I chased novelty in my wardrobe and my home. It was easy to be swept along by what everyone else was buying, convinced that the next piece was the one that would make me feel complete. But over time, I realised that the things I truly treasured, the ones that felt like an extension of me, were never bought on a whim.

Slow luxury is my personal antidote to the fast lane of consumption. It’s about curating a life filled only with pieces that are both beautiful and built to last — whether that’s a comforting handmade woollen gilet from British brand, By Soren, or elevating my daily rituals with fine fragrance. A favourite hand wash in the cloakroom, a softly scented candle glowing in the hallway, these small details turn the everyday into something quietly exquisite.

Why Slow Luxury Matters

Slow luxury is not just about aesthetics; it’s about connection. Every object we invite into our lives has an origin story; the hands that made it, the materials chosen, the care that went into its creation. When we choose fewer, better things, we honour those stories and create less waste in the process.

There’s also a deeper wellness benefit. Living with intention, rather than clutter, creates mental space. The calm I feel in a pared-back home, or when I open a wardrobe where every item earns its place, is a quiet form of self-care. And scent plays a role here, too; a gentle note drifting from a silk scarf that still carries yesterday’s perfume, the instant comfort of the familiar. These are the things that anchor you to the present while softly reminding you of the past.

How To Bring Slow Luxury Into Your Life

Here are some small but powerful shifts that have made a difference for me:

1. Pause before you purchase. Ask: Will I love this in five years? Does it work with what I already own?
2. Choose natural materials. In both clothing and interiors, linen, cotton, wool, silk, and wood not only last longer but also age gracefully.
3. Think seasonally. Rotate clothes, scents, and even tableware with the seasons — it keeps things feeling fresh without constant buying.
4. Brand Loyalty. Seek out brands you will fall in love with, that fully resonate — once I fall for a new brand, they become part of the fabric of my life and home forever.
5. Buy less, but better. Spend the same budget over the year, but invest in fewer, higher-quality items. Seek out items that bring you total joy and don’t settle for anything less.

Find Joy In The Edit

One of the most satisfying parts of embracing slow luxury is the process of editing — letting go of the items that no longer serve me, and making space for those that truly do. I see it as an ongoing conversation with myself: Who am I now? What do I want my surroundings to say about me?

When you live with fewer, better things, you start to notice the small luxuries more — the delight of slipping into a cotton nightgown at the end of the day, the way sunlight streams across a vintage burl wood table. You savour the steam curling above a warm bath infused with oils, or the way your favourite perfume clings to the collar of a coat you haven’t worn since spring. These moments are where life feels richest.

In the end, slow luxury isn’t about deprivation — it’s about appreciation. It’s not the number of things you own that matters, but the depth of connection you have to them. For me, that cashmere blanket on a frosty morning, the soft glow of a candle, or the faint echo of scent in a silk scarf will always mean more than a dozen rushed purchases ever could.

And perhaps that’s the truest luxury of all: to live with pieces — and scents — that feel like they were made just for you, and to give them the time and space to become part of your story.