What Is Cottagecore and How It Connects to Real-Life Homesteading

Hello from my little homestead in the woods! I recently learned there’s a whole aesthetic trend called cottagecore – and apparently I’ve been living it without even trying. Who knew my daily routine of baking bread, hanging laundry, and wrangling chickens was actually super trendy? In this post, I’ll break down what cottagecore is (in case you’ve missed the TikToks of folks in prairie dresses frolicking in fields) and how it overlaps with the down-and-dirty reality of homesteading. Grab a cup of herbal tea (foraged from the backyard, of course) and settle in for a humorous, first-person tour of cottagecore vs. homesteading life.

The Allure of Cottagecore: Nostalgia, Simplicity, and Pastoral Dreams

Cottagecore is an aesthetic movement romanticizing rural life, simple living, and nostalgia. Think of idyllic images of cozy cottages, sun-dappled gardens, homemade pies cooling on windowsills, and vintage floral dresses. It’s a whole vibe that idealizes the countryside and traditional skills. In fact, cottagecore is often defined as “an aesthetic idealizing rural life” – essentially a visual and lifestyle celebration of everything quaint and country. It embraces a slower, sustainable existence that’s more harmonious with nature, harkening back to what we imagine life was like in “the good old days” before smartphones and supermarkets.

Where did cottagecore come from? The term itself popped up around 2018 on Tumblr, and by 2020 it went full-on viral. (Thank you, pandemic lockdowns, for giving us too much time to bake bread and daydream about cottages.) Social media platforms like Instagram and TikTok bloomed with images of people living out their Little House on the Prairie fantasies. Even The New York Times took notice, calling cottagecore “a budding aesthetic movement” in early 2020, right as many folks were quarantining and craving a simpler life. With everyone stuck at home, suddenly baking sourdough, gardening, and knitting didn’t seem so old-fashioned – it was downright soothing. Cottagecore became an escape from Zoom calls and doomscrolling, a way to imagine a gentler, greener world.

What does cottagecore look like? Picture this:

• Flowy Dresses and Aprons: Vintage-inspired outfits – think grandma’s apron, linen dresses, rubber boots for the garden, maybe a straw hat. (Bonus points if you’ve got a flower tucked in your hair.)

• Cozy Cottages: Tiny cabins or old farmhouses with thatched roofs, climbing roses, and a vegetable patch out back. Interiors are filled with dried herbs, old books, and handmade quilts.

• Domestic Arts: Lots of baking, canning, and cooking from scratch. (Sourdough bread and fruit pies are practically cottagecore icons.) Crafting is huge too – embroidery, knitting, sewing your own clothes, you name it.

• Nature and Garden: Lush gardens overflowing with wildflowers and veggies. Foraging in the woods for mushrooms and berries. Feeding chickens in a sunny yard. Basically, pastoral bliss.

• Old-Fashioned Activities: Writing letters by hand, pressing flowers, reading hardcover books by oil lamp, spinning wool – if it sounds like something your great-great-grandma did, it’s cottagecore.

In essence, cottagecore is like a Pinterest board sprung to life: all the prettiest slices of country living, artfully arranged. It’s a celebration of simplicity and the “good life” in the country. No wonder so many people find it appealing – it’s pure escapism with a wholesome twist.

But here’s the thing: as a full-time homesteader, I look at those dreamy cottagecore pictures and I smirk. Sure, I’ve got the fresh bread, blooming garden, and cuddly barn cat that all fit the aesthetic. But I’ve also got mud on my boots, mosquito bites, and a to-do list that includes mucking out the chicken coop. Cottagecore enthusiasts love “the wholesome purity of the outdoors” – and so do I, but I also know the outdoors comes with ticks, compost smells, and relentless weeds. 😅

Before I spill the (homegrown) beans on my own life, let’s talk about how cottagecore and homesteading overlap.

When Cottagecore Meets Homesteading: Fantasy vs. Reality

On the surface, cottagecore looks a whole lot like homesteading. The aesthetic actually borrows many homesteading activities: gardening, baking, preserving food, tending chickens, etc. Cottagecore enthusiasts are often practicing (or at least play-acting) skills that real homesteaders use every day. According to one description, “the practices of homesteading reflect the philosophy of self-sufficiency of cottagecore,” including growing your own food, baking bread, and making meals from scratch. In other words, cottagecore isn’t just about looking pastoral – it encourages actually doing these quaint domestic and agrarian tasks (or at least having them as props in your photos).

As a homesteader, let me tell you, I’m doing all those things for real – but not necessarily in a cute floral dress. 😉 Here are some ways cottagecore ideals overlap with my real life on the homestead:

• Baking and Cooking from Scratch: Part of the cottagecore charm is the smell of fresh bread and pies. In my house, Baking 2-Hour Buns is not just aesthetic, it’s a necessity if we want bread with dinner! (Yes, I really do make those fluffy buns, and I’ve even shared the recipe on the blog – it’s a family favorite.) On a homestead you cook almost everything from scratch. That gorgeous Instagram shot of a flour-dusted countertop? At my place, that’s the aftermath of making bread, cookies, and canning salsa all in one day. The romance meets reality when you’re scraping dough off the counter and reminding your kids (and, ahem, husband) to not use up all the flour.

• Preserving and Canning: Cottagecore imagery loves rows of jewel-colored jam jars and pickles on shelves. I laugh because I have those shelves – but I also have the memory of sweating in the kitchen during August canning marathons. (Picture me stirring a boiling pot of tomato sauce with frizzy hair and berry stains on my apron – not exactly a curated Instagram moment.)

Safety is key too; behind every pretty pantry there’s a nerdy homesteader double-checking a Canning Safety Cheat Sheet to make sure no one gets botulism from that batch of dilly beans. In fact, I’m known among friends for geeking out over safe canning practices. Cottagecore fans adore the idea of canning; homesteaders deal with the science of it. (I even keep a laminated cheat sheet on my fridge for reference – zero shame!)

• Gardening and Foraging: The cottagecore aesthetic worships the garden. Wildflowers in mason jars, big pumpkins in the fall, sunflowers and bees – it’s practically a requirement. Homesteading is much the same; I spend countless hours in my vegetable garden. However, the aesthetic doesn’t show me hunched over pulling weeds while mosquitos feast on me, or the dirt under my nails 24/7. And yes, I do forage in real life – one of our popular posts is about Foraging with Kids because I often take my kiddos out to gather wild edibles. Those outings are equal parts magical and mayhem. (Picture my little ones chasing butterflies and stomping through mud puddles – we find wild berries and medicinal plants, but we also come home with wet socks and random twigs in our hair.) Cottagecore paints foraging as a whimsical picnic; I can confirm it’s fun, but also chaotic when you add children to the mix! If you’re curious about foraging safely and enjoy a good laugh, check out our blog post on Foraging with Kids: Chaos, Curiosity & Cattails – it’s a pretty accurate description of our adventures in the wild.

• Handicrafts and DIY: Another overlap – cottagecore folks love knitting, embroidery, making their own clothes or décor. On the homestead, I do this out of both pleasure and practicality. I mend ripped jeans, sew simple curtains, and crochet blankets in winter. It’s not because I’m recreating a Jane Austen novel scene – it’s because homesteading teaches you to use what you have and make things last. The bonus? These skills double as relaxing hobbies. There’s a real satisfaction in wearing an apron you sewed yourself or wrapping your baby in a quilt you made. Cottagecore sees a cute embroidery hoop with flowers; I see a useful skill my grandma taught me that connects me to past generations.

Now, where do the differences come in? Mainly in what each side chooses to show and celebrate. Cottagecore is selective – it highlights the beautiful moments and conveniently glosses over the gritty ones. Homesteading, on the other hand, is a package deal: you can’t have the fresh eggs without cleaning the coop, or the bountiful garden without the bug bites and dirt.

I stumbled upon a funny comment online that summed it up well: Homesteading is so much more than what is portrayed on Instagram – it’s not just an aesthetic, it’s hard work; cottagecore is like playing pretend at the easy parts. One blogger quipped that cottagecore is basically “the Pretty Pretty Princessing of the homestead movement,” cherry-picking the attractive bits and leaving behind the struggles. I had to laugh (and nod) at that. For example, a cottagecore enthusiast might put on a stylish straw hat and pose with a basket of apples for a photo – a homesteader spends hours climbing the tree, fighting off wasps, getting sweaty and sticky to actually harvest those apples, then spends the next day canning applesauce!

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE the fact that cottagecore has people interested in homestead-y activities. Anything that gets folks baking bread or planting seeds is awesome. But if you’re ever tempted to romanticize my life, just remember: after the cute Instagram snap of me holding a chicken, I probably got pooped on by said chicken shortly thereafter.

Homesteading: Living the Cottagecore Life (Minus the Filters)

Here on our homestead, I often pause and realize how picturesque our life would look to an outsider. Just this week I was hanging laundry on the clothesline, the sun was shining, the chickens were pecking around my feet, and a gentle breeze was blowing – honestly, it felt like I was in a cottagecore postcard. There’s something undeniably satisfying about seeing white sheets and gingham aprons fluttering in the wind. (And nothing beats the fresh scent of line-dried clothes – take that, chemical fabric softeners!) These are the moments cottagecore dreams are made of.

But then reality kicks in: the toddler starts chasing a rooster through the yard, my dog decides to roll in a mud puddle right under the line, and I’m pretty sure a wasp just flew into the house while the door was propped open. So much for serene slow living!

Let me share a few unfiltered snippets of my day that show the beauty and the mess hand-in-hand:

• Morning Chores: I wake at sunrise (not because I’m an aesthetic early bird – because the cow is mooing to be milked and the dog is whining to be let out). Feeding the chickens in my pj’s and rubber boots might not be Instagram-ready, but it’s real. The cottagecore crowd loves the idea of “waking with the roosters”; I actually do, and sometimes I wish those roosters had a snooze button. If you’ve read Why You Need a Homestead Dog, you know my dog is both a loving companion and a mischievous rascal. He’s great at guarding the homestead, but he also once dragged a full line of laundry into the dirt because he thought a sheet blowing in the wind was obviously a ghost attacking us. Thanks, buddy.

• Foraging for Dinner: In true cottagecore fashion, I often forage wild foods and herbs. Not always in a pretty wicker basket, mind you – sometimes it’s an old bucket. I’ve taken my kids to pick wild asparagus by the fence line and collect morel mushrooms in the woods. (They mostly collect sticks and weird bugs, but hey, it’s the experience.) We come home with a random assortment of nature’s goodies. This is where Sustainable Meal Planning on a homestead gets creative – how do I turn a handful of wild fiddleheads, some garden kale, and yesterday’s leftover chicken into dinner? Luckily, homesteaders are pros at cooking with what’s available. I’ll whip up a stir-fry or soup using our foraged finds, stretching every ingredient. Meal planning here isn’t just an ideal, it’s a daily puzzle: use the fresh veggies before they spoil, reinvent leftovers, and stock the pantry for lean times. (If you need tips on this, check out Sustainable Meal Planning: How to Save Time and Money with Smart Leftover Use – it’s basically how homesteaders survive and avoid food waste.)

• Projects and DIY Fixes: A big part of homesteading (and one place cottagecore fans might throw in the towel) is the constant DIY and fixing stuff. In a given week, I might have to patch a hole in the fence, rig up a rainwater collection system, unclog a grain grinder, and chop firewood – all before the first snowfall hits. It’s not cute or romantic, but I’ve learned so many skills out of sheer necessity. Remember those lovely vintage teapots and lanterns in cottagecore photos? Out here, if something breaks, we actually fix it or repurpose it. (I once turned an old enamel teapot into a planter for succulents – that’s my kind of cottagecore décor!) There’s a popular post on our blog called Apartment Homesteading which talks about bringing homestead practices into small spaces. It emphasizes that you can learn these DIY skills anywhere. I often tell my city friends: start small. Even if you’re in a high-rise apartment, you can grow herbs on a windowsill, learn to mend clothes, or preserve farmers’ market veggies in jars. You don’t need a farm to live more sustainably.

• Community and Barter: One aspect of both cottagecore and homesteading that gets less press is the sense of community. The romantic notion is a solitary cottage in the woods, but in reality, homesteaders often band together – we swap produce, trade know-how, help each other with big tasks. (I’ll can extra tomatoes and trade a few jars for my neighbor’s homemade goat cheese. Another neighbor fixes my tractor, and I repay him with fresh baked bread and a promise to help build his new chicken coop.) There’s a revival of old-fashioned neighborliness going on. In the modern context, even online communities serve this role – sharing tips and encouragement. Cottagecore folks have online groups to share photos and recipes; we homesteaders have those plus we’re on forums discussing the fine points of composting toilets at 2am. Fun times!

Oh, and speaking of modern realities: even homesteaders need insurance. Yes, not charming but true – we have a custom policy that covers our home, farm equipment, and livestock (because regular homeowner’s insurance doesn’t cut it when you have goats and tractors). It’s the kind of thing no cottagecore mood board will ever include, but if you’re really moving to the country, you’ll want to read All About Homesteaders Insurance to protect your rustic dream. Nothing bursts a romantic bubble like an unexpected barn roof repair bill, trust me.

At this point you might be thinking, “Why do you do all this if it’s so much work?” Because for all the sweat and frustrations, it truly is a rewarding, fulfilling lifestyle. And honestly, I love it. I might grumble when a sudden frost wipes out my early seedlings or when the goats escape (again), but I wouldn’t trade this life for anything. Homesteading lets me connect deeply with my food, my land, my family, and even my community. It’s a level of self-reliance and satisfaction that’s hard to describe.

Interestingly, these are the very reasons a lot of people are getting into homesteading again. There’s a whole movement afoot – people from all walks of life are starting gardens, raising chickens, and seeking that simpler life. (We wrote about this trend in Why People Are Starting to Homestead Again – it turns out factors like rising food prices, desire for food security, and yearning for a closer connection to nature are motivating modern folks to grab a bit of that “old-timey” lifestyle.) In a way, the cottagecore craze is a reflection of that same yearning. Even if not everyone can or will become a full-time homesteader, the fact that millions are romanticizing it means it strikes a chord.

Embracing the Messy, Beautiful Reality of Rural Life

At the end of the day, I find it kind of sweet that the internet is swooning over the life I’m living (minus the less Instagrammable bits). Cottagecore, with all its fairy-tale filter, is great for romanticizing rural life. We all need a bit of romance and whimsy! But actually living it – waking up to crisp country air, digging in the soil, experiencing the heartbreak and joy of caring for animals and crops, and collapsing into bed tired but proud of what you did with your own two hands – that is something else entirely. It’s messy. It’s real. It’s absolutely beautiful.

I’ll continue to share pretty photos of fresh bread and wildflowers on my blog, because hey, I’m proud of those things (and they smell as good as they look!). But I’ll also share the bloopers: the loaf of bread that came out like a brick, the time my kid “watered” the garden by leaving the hose running all night, or how my idyllic picnic got invaded by ants. Because that’s real homesteading life, and in many ways it only makes the successes sweeter.

If cottagecore inspires you to try a bit of this life – to bake a pie, start a little garden, or even plan a move to the country – go for it! Dip your toes in the creek, so to speak. Just keep in mind that living in a cottage in the woods comes with cottage mice in the pantry. 😉 And you know what? You might even enjoy dealing with the challenges, because they make each triumph feel earned.

Cottagecore and homesteading are like two sides of the same homemade coin. One side is polished and decorative, the other side is a little scuffed from use – but both celebrate the value of a homegrown, intentional life. I’m happy the cottagecore trend has people dreaming about what I get to see and do each day. But I’m even happier living the reality: the hard work, the laughter, the occasional tears, and the profound satisfaction that comes from this homestead life. Romanticizing rural life is a wonderful starting point; actually living it, with all its mud and glory, is even better.

So here’s to freshly baked bread at sunrise, to muddy boots by the door, to sunrises that take your breath away, and to sunsets that find you bone-tired but content. Cottagecore may be a charming vision of country life – but homesteading is that life in full color, unfiltered, and I’m here for every bit of it. Welcome to my cottagecore-turned-homesteading reality, friends – it’s not perfect, but it sure is worth it.