Meet the editors, makers, and contributors who shape Aurelie Perrot. Each person brings a particular eye for material, texture, and the quiet rhythm of domestic life.
Next started the journal after years of styling interiors for small guesthouses in the Western Cape. She writes most of the seasonal home essays and edits every studio visit with a focus on process over polish.
Dimakatso spent a decade working with weavers in rural KwaZulu-Natal before joining the team. She writes the natural material care guides, from linen washing to wool storage, always with an eye on longevity.
Personal documents the workshops and maker spaces featured in the journal. His approach is unhurried, often spending a full day with a craftsperson to capture the small gestures that define their work.
Claudia is a ceramic historian who advises on the mindful object collecting series. She helps readers distinguish between pieces made to last and those that simply imitate handmade character.
Thabo coordinates the practical guides and reader questions. He turns abstract ideas about slow living into concrete weekly routines, seasonal checklists, and small-batch collaboration announcements.
Who we are
Every essay, studio visit, and guide is written in a warm, personal tone. We share what we have tried, what has worked, and what has not. The goal is to feel like advice from a knowledgeable friend who has spent years learning to slow down.
We do not chase trends. We follow seasons, materials, and the quiet satisfaction of making something by hand.
Our readers are not minimalists by rule. They are people who are tired of clutter, noise, and rushed mornings. They want homes that feel grounded, objects that age well, and routines that leave room for rest. If that sounds familiar, this journal is for you.
You do not need to renovate your home. You need to slow down and notice what is already there.
Each feature focuses on something you can actually do this week: restyle a shelf with natural materials, start a small morning ritual, or care for a linen tablecloth properly. We avoid vague inspiration and stick to practical, achievable steps.
Slow living is not a luxury. It is a series of small, deliberate choices repeated daily.
We visit small-batch ceramicists, talk to weavers and woodworkers, and explore how natural materials like linen, clay, and oak shape the feel of a room. We also write about the rituals that anchor a day: making tea, setting a table, tending a plant.
A handmade mug holds more than coffee. It holds the story of the hands that shaped it.
We do not promise a perfect home or a flawless routine. We promise honest writing about the effort, the missteps, and the small victories that come with living more intentionally. Imperfection is part of the craft.
The goal is not a picture-perfect interior. It is a home that supports the life you actually want to live.
A quiet timeline of the journal's evolution, from a single notebook of observations to a small community of readers who value slower days and handmade things.
Aurelie began keeping a personal journal of daily rituals, noting how a linen cloth, a hand-thrown mug, or a morning walk changed the pace of her hours. What started as private notes became the seed of the publication.
The journal's first feature documented a local potter's workshop in the Western Cape. The piece focused on the rhythm of the kiln and the patience of the maker, and it drew more readers than expected.
With autumn as the starting point, Aurelie launched a series of practical guides on styling homes with natural materials. Each guide covered one room, one material, and one achievable change.
The journal began partnering with artisans on limited runs of ceramic and linen goods. These collaborations were never about volume; each batch was made slowly, numbered, and documented in full.
Monthly letters now reach a small but engaged audience. Readers share their own rituals, ask questions about material care, and send photographs of their tables, shelves, and morning corners.
Today the publication remains deliberately small. Each essay, studio visit, and guide is written by hand, edited slowly, and published only when it feels ready. The goal has never been growth for its own sake.
Aurelie Perrot began in 2016 as a single notebook of observations about how we furnish our days. What started as a personal record of slow mornings and hand-thrown ceramics has grown into a small editorial practice with readers in twelve countries. The path was never linear, and the decisions were mostly small ones: which craftspeople to visit, which rituals to document, which objects deserved a closer look.
2016
Aurelie began keeping a weekly journal of domestic rituals, photographing her own linen, wooden bowls, and the way morning light fell across her kitchen table. The first public post was a short essay on mending a favorite shirt rather than replacing it.
2018
After months of correspondence, Aurelie spent a week with a ceramicist outside Stellenbosch. That visit became the first studio feature and set the tone for everything since: patient observation, honest process, and no polished perfection.
2020
The lockdown year forced a slower publishing rhythm. Instead of weekly posts, the journal moved to monthly essays with deeper research. Readers responded warmly, and the mailing list grew by a third without any promotion.
2022
Three artisans agreed to produce limited runs of objects designed around the journal's principles: a linen apron, a stoneware mug, a walnut serving board. Each run was capped at fifty pieces and sold out through the newsletter alone.
2024
The journal now reaches a modest but engaged audience. Monthly essays are supplemented by practical guides on natural material care and seasonal home styling. The focus remains the same: tangible ideas for calmer spaces and more intentional routines.