Rosalyn Wikeley is a travel and fashion writer and editor with over a decade of experience contributing to world-renowned titles and national newspapers, including Condé Nast Traveller and The Telegraph. Having recently swapped London life for the countryside in West Dorset, she now balances writing, travel, and motherhood with a deep appreciation for place, detail, and the stories that give destinations their soul. In this conversation, Rosalyn reflects on changing definitions of luxury, life close to nature, and the pieces - both in travel and in wardrobes - that are truly worth keeping.
You’ve lived and worked in some incredible places. What does a typical day look like for you now, living in the countryside in West Dorset?
The days here are typically chaotic and dictated by the school run, the light (we have no streetlamps in the village) and philosophical discussions around gentle parenting scepticism after bath time. I grew up in a farmhouse with chickens in the cloakroom, fishermen at the table and orphan lambs beneath the Aga, so the chaos doesn’t faze me, but I’m still trying to reconcile the demands of a big family with my work.
Before my third was born, I worked at a cool space above an arts centre in a local town where my children are at school, but since my son was born, I slink around coffee shops with the pram, hoping I won’t be kicked out and write when he’s snoozing. If I stay in the country, I’ll put the babe in the Artipoppe and stomp around the woods to the News Agents podcast before sitting down to write once he’s asleep. My son is nine weeks old, so I’m still finding my feet. Weekends here are walks, pubs, beaches in summer and long lunches with friends. We often have London friends to stay, which is always a great excuse to revisit some of our favourite restaurants and beach cafes down here.
You’ve spent over a decade writing for world‑renowned titles and national newspapers and are a regular contributor to Condé Nast Traveller. How has your relationship with travel changed as your career has progressed?
In terms of my relationship with the travel itself, I’d say what’s changed the most is how I’d define luxury. This has, of course, changed in step with cultural shifts and new interpretations of the concept (experiential more than tangible, yada yada…) but for me, luxury is now in truly unique interiors that don’t feel copied and pasted from the same few design teams, or somewhere where characters still make a place what it is, not just the calibre of art on the walls or the thread count. I guess it’s the luxury of intrigue, of pulling you out of the familiar hotel tick boxes and pricking your ears. There are also the little details: longer breakfasts, fresh milk in the room fridge, plenty of filtered water – sounds silly but particularly when reviewing very smart hotels, the absence of these basics drives me nuts. If I’m not travelling with work, I tend to be travelling with friends, and actually enjoy the adversities ... they make for good stories. Like when we arrived late to one group trip and pulled the short straw with a room just off the dance floor in the party barn.
“Luxury is now in truly unique interiors that don't feel copied and pasted… It's the luxury of intrigue, of pulling you out of the familiar hotel tick boxes and pricking your ears.”
You’re known as both a ski and Sicily expert - two very different worlds. How did this happen? And what drew you there initially?
Happy accidents really for both. Skiing, I’m absolutely not the best skier in my friendship group or family, but can keep up and get down anything. I love it, and find being in the mountains so reviving. My husband is an avid skier and flies up to the Arctic for ski touring trips, so I’ve been thrown in at the deep end and have loved exploring various resorts with him, taking full advantage of his ski knowledge and solid context as I go. I must say, I love skiing in Italy above all else, but am very fond of Courchevel with a best friend inviting us there most seasons since we were teenagers.
With Sicily, I organised a series of stays for a road trip feature I’d had commissioned while working at Condé Nast Traveller. It was in that gap we had during Covid where we were allowed to fly, then abruptly weren’t - we basically got lucky! As I’d reviewed several hotels for the road trip features and built a mental map of the island, I was well-placed to be sent out and commissioned for future pieces, and then things just snowballed. I now have great connections with many of the hoteliers, the PRs, the tourism boards, artists and the travel agents operating on the island (Emily Fitzroy of Bellini Travel is who to go with). I ensure I stay on top of new openings, or general happenings and gossip, and feel most editors now know it’s my forte. This year’s goal is to find a publisher for a coffee table book on Sicily’s best stays.
“The ultimate art really is how to slice time with a knife.”
As a mother of three young children, how has motherhood reshaped the way you work, travel, and choose how you spend your time?
Gosh I’m still finding my feet on this. The ultimate art really is how to slice time with a knife. I’m obsessed with this idea of quality over quantity with travel, which may not sound groundbreaking but being time-poor now with three children, I’m incredibly picky about what press trips I agree to or the destinations I devote my energy and time to researching and pitching. So while you’d expect the maternal commitments to three under five to cleanly undermine a travel writing career, the pressure has gifted me this filter system akin to that of an editor’s with limited budget and big ambitions. I need to have a good angle, a destination I can stretch out over several pieces and one that hasn’t been done to death by fellow writers.
How would you describe your personal style today - and has it evolved since moving to the countryside?
I’m yet to strike the balance and tend to go all out on London trips now for fear of fading into oversized jumpers and scruffy cords down here, then in Dorset I go for the full country garbs for a muddy walk, or head into my local town in ‘lost Londoner’ outfits. I love pulling outfits together for events in London, and the only way I can operate with family packing on trips is to assign a daily outfit to each child, and myself with packing cubes. I love elegant, smart casual evening looks with an edge (which I’ve definitely picked up from spending lots of time in Italy and Paris) - a cashmere cardigan with plain baggy leather trousers and some statement earrings, or a long, plain floaty dress with weird sleeve details and some out there sandals. Rejina Pyo always seems to hit the right notes for me, and Marni, and I love finding some of the smaller, luxury brands through fashion feature writing, like MarAvic, Kindred of Ireland, Mà + Lin, YSSO and, of course, JAKOB.
What is your favourite JAKOB piece? And what drew you to this particular piece? How do you like to wear it in your everyday life?
Struggling to choose one. I’d say the burgundy heirloom cardigan because it goes with nearly everything in my wardrobe, and looks so chic in the evening flung over a long leather skirt or some fancy trousers. The scallop trim detail means you can keep things simple on the jewellery front.
JAKOB is built around the idea of modern heirlooms. Do you have a personal heirloom - whether a piece of clothing, furniture, or even a family recipe - that you treasure? What makes it special?
Yes, I love thinking about the past lives of objects, and how they’ve outlived their owners. It’s not in any way valuable, but I have this glass deer ornament from my grandmother which changes colour with the weather (my daughter has the same obsession with it as I did as a child). My eldest daughter has already made verbal claims over engagement rings and necklaces, so my children will no doubt be pigeons to grain, if there’s any treasure left before I pop my clogs… but I do think it’s important to tell those you love about precious objects, their provenance and any stories behind them. I’m too English to write this, but people live on in these stories.
“I love thinking about the past lives of objects, and how they've outlived their owners.”
Sustainability is often talked about in big, abstract terms. What does sustainable living look like for you in a practical, everyday sense?
In a practical everyday sense, it’s making choices that are feasible and easy: walking rather than taking a taxi (when in London), buying clothes that will last and not be thrown out in your next wardrobe purge (sold or passed on). I’d love to be holier than thou and preach my eco-credentials, but thankfully, many of my shopping habits (buying antique furniture, visiting consignment stores in London and Paris, buying lots of the children’s clothing on Vinted) are certainly more ethical than they once were. I do find greenwashing in hotel blurb hard to stomach but so long as it’s cool to be sustainable, we’re going in the right direction.
“Life’s too short to keep the glad rags in moth protectors.”
How does living close to nature influence the way you consume - fashion, travel, food, or otherwise?
I grew up in the countryside and was poring over pages of Vogue, with models dressed to the nines in New York while I was firmly in the sticks, so I think I’ve always blurred the two. Tim Burton did… and most photographers (love a luxe fashion ad campaign… with sheep…) ... right? I definitely have an ‘easy’ wardrobe here and spice things up in cities … because it’s fun, a real creative outlet and life’s too short to keep the glad rags in moth protectors. Travel wise, living in Dorset has made me want to explore the West Country more, and made me fall in love with the UK again (I’m excited for a Swallows and Amazons-esque Lake District road trip with our family this summer). It’s also reignited an appetite for city breaks, which I avoided like the plague when we lived in London - fresh mountain air or beaches were priority. Actually, on that, it’s the spanking fresh air in Dorset and the extraordinary, Africa-grade starry skies that make where we live so damn special.
Food-wise, Dorset was long the UK’s untapped larder… but in the past five or so years, budding restaurateurs (and more famous London émigrés) have caught on. We are now spoiled for choice in the farm-to-fork department: The Parlour, Brassica, Seaside Boarding House, Catch at The Old Fish Market etc. I’ve written extensively on West Dorset’s charms (Condé Nast Traveller, the Standard, Country Life, Collagerie), which are not for everyone - those accustomed to the Cotswolds’ chichi cottages and Daylesford will probably wonder what on earth all the fuss is about and want to head home to warmer kitchens and smarter bootrooms pronto. West Dorset is as close as you’ll get to old England (courtesy of the landed gentry who deliberately jeopardised rail advancements to avoid losing staff to Bristol or London) and some of the large houses here feel alarmingly Jane Austen for 2026. As for the landscape, the air smells like home for me here. Hilly, cattle-grazed fields meet cliffs bashed by angry winter seas and, in summer, some of the most glorious beaches in England.
“It's the spanking fresh air in Dorset and the extraordinary, Africa‑grade starry skies that make where we live so damn special.”
Where do you find inspiration when you’re not travelling - at home, in books, in nature, or elsewhere?
My job is often not finding inspiration but fulfilling briefs to tight deadlines or pitching SEO-friendly or affiliate-friendly features - romantic, I know. But on the odd occasion when my work permits me some creative license, I’m inspired by conversations at dinners here, with those whose taste I admire or whose behaviour I feel is indicative of broader social shifts, or cultural phenomena worth writing about. Inspiration is often closer to home than you think.
What book are you currently reading (or have recently loved)?
I’m doing that awful thing of reading a few books at once, like picking at a buffet and never feeling fully satisfied. Occupational hazard, as a few are for destination research. But I’ve really enjoyed reading Martha Gellhorn’s Travels with Myself & Another as she’s so witty and sharp in her account of the various ‘hideous journeys’ she undertook with her husband, Ernest Hemingway.
Looking ahead, where is your next dream travel destination - and why?
There are so many! My diary is already plump and I vowed not to travel too much this year and bite off more than I can chew with two young children and a baby. Whoops. But with all the hotel openings, (I’m not talking the braggy blockbuster ones, but smaller, tastefully curated sorts), I can’t help myself. My eternal luxury is the Eurostar - I’m not a mad flyer (I'm acutely aware of how absurd that comment is given my vocation, which I wrote about for the London Standard with flying lessons), and I’ve pitched a fun piece on hotels within easy reach of Paris. Italy is the gift that keeps on giving – I’m off to Como for two newsy bits, The Dolomites (Hotel Saltus), Rome (JK Place), potentially Sardinia and, of course, Sicily. I should really give up on the design-forward boutique hotels with chic owners now I have three children, but they’ll either need to heed the ‘I’ve told you once, I’ve told you thrice’ line or I’ll be using up precious chips with family to visit the favourites. In terms of hotel openings and news, this is one of the most exciting years in travel for boutique hotel lovers.
