I don’t remember exactly when I first heard the phrase “romanticise your life,” but it struck a chord deep in my overthinking, detail-loving soul. The idea that one could elevate everyday experiences into something beautiful, meaningful, and even cinematic was alluring.

According to a New York Times article on the trend, romanticising your life began as a TikTok movement, particularly popular among women who were tired of measuring their lives in terms of productivity. It wasn’t about money or luxury, but about intention: wearing the dress just because you love it, plating your lunch like a restaurant meal, pausing to enjoy the way sunlight spills across your floor. It’s not delusion, but childlike appreciation.

So how does one do it? It’s not about buying more stuff in pursuit of “aesthetics”. It’s about small actions that elevate an experience and foster mindfulness. Here are some of my favourite, low-effort, high-pleasure ways to romanticise life:

Use the good china
Many of us have a stash of beautiful plates and glasses that only emerge when entertaining. Why? Why are you, the main character of your own life, eating your toast on a steel plate that’s slightly bent in the middle? If something brings you joy, why save it for guests only? If you still don’t want to use your fine china for daily meals, try applying this to your coffee or tea ritual, using your most beautiful cup that makes you smile just looking at it. Not only will you enjoy the upliftment that pretty things bring, you’ll be compelled to savour your tea break rather than multitasking during it.

Keep fresh flowers at home
Nothing perks up a space—or your mood—quite like a vase of fresh blooms. You don’t have to splurge on orchids or lilies (unless you want to); even a bunch of yellow chrysanthemums from the corner florist or a few hibiscus snipped from your garden will do the trick. I like to put a small bunch in a glass jar on my bathroom sink—it gives the whole place spa energy, even when I’m in my oldest nightie.

Make playlists for everything
Create playlists for driving, cooking, getting ready for a party, etc. Music sets the mood and tells your brain, “Something nice is happening.” Create one just for your self-care rituals—songs that make you feel soft, sensual, or glamourous. The next time you oil your hair or do your skincare, hit “play” and suddenly it’s a montage scene from your favourite film! You can also have a playlist ready for the rainy-day blues–if you read my column on cycle-syncing for women, you’ll know that PMS can be a killer, so ride the wave with a collection of songs that hit you in your feels.

Skincare is self-love. Use the good stuff liberally
I used to ration my expensive face cream like it was ambrosia. Then I realised, it’s not going to work from inside the jar! Use the things you’ve already bought, and use them generously. I feel extra luxurious when I bring my nice skincare all the way down to my neck and décolleté, and even the backs of my hands. Bonus tip: add a drop of essential oil to your body cream—lavender if you want to sleep well, citrus if you want to feel fresh, sandalwood if you want to feel like royalty. You’ve just created your own luxury product.

Aromas are powerful. Add scent to everything
Our sense of smell is directly tied to memory and emotion. Lighting a candle, burning incense, even putting a few drops of essential oil in a diffuser can completely change the feel of a space. Again, scented candles may be something you do only for guests, but you shouldn’t deprive yourself of this simple mood-setter. Throw on one of the aforementioned playlists, light a candle, and you may find yourself and your spouse enjoying an intimate conversation and date-night feeling at home, rather then sitting next to each other scrolling your phones. Similarly, don’t save fancy perfumes for special occasions. Douse yourself in whatever scent suits your mood that moment, and observe how such a seemingly minor act can boost your confidence and set you up to have the best day.

Have a tea party. Even if it’s just you
There’s something delightfully childlike and whimsical about tea parties, and I think grown women need more of that. Invite a couple of friends over, bake or buy some finger snacks, serve them on tiered plates, and spend the afternoon drinking tea and talking about nothing and everything. You’ll feel like you’re in a Jane Austen novel, but with fewer corsets and more gossip. This is also a wonderful activity to do with children, who are passionate snackers but have not been exposed to the classic afternoon tea ritual.

If you’re not in the mood for company, you can still set a tray with tea, biscuits, and a single flower in a tiny vase or glass. Sit by the window. Sip slowly. Enjoy the pause.

Walk with no destination. Dress up for no reason. Daydream without guilt
Romanticising your life is about rejecting the idea that every moment must be productive or purposeful. It’s about wearing your favourite lipstick just to go buy vegetables. It’s about taking the long way home because the trees on that route make you feel calm. It’s about watching the rain and letting it wash over your brain instead of checking your phone. It’s not about pretending things are perfect—it’s about choosing to find beauty in the mundane.

We tend to save our best selves for later. We’ll relax when the weekend comes, light candles when guests arrive, wear the pretty dress when there’s a party. But soft living, romantic living, is about asking: What if today is the special occasion?
The essence of the idea boils down to refusing to save joy for later.

So many of us were raised with the idea that restraint is virtue. That pleasure is indulgent. That luxury must be earned. But what if we flipped that script? What if beauty is not a reward, but a right?
To romanticise your life, you don’t need Paris. You need presence. You don’t need a million-dollar home, you just need to look up and notice the late afternoon light turning your walls golden. You don’t need to be anyone else or anywhere else. You just need to be here, now, paying attention—and giving yourself permission to enjoy it.

Because life isn’t just something to survive; it’s something to be delighted by. Even on a Tuesday. Happy romanticising, dear readers!