Layla Cluer is one of those quietly compelling creatives — the kind you can’t help but feel drawn to. There is a natural coolness to her, an effortless presence, yet beneath it lies deep consideration. Her attention to care threads through all she does: her words, her actions, the spaces she inhabits, and the porcelain she creates as founder of Softedge Studio. Drawn to ocean swims, breathwork, gentle movement and the grounding presence of nature, she weaves softness and ease into the rhythm of her days, creating a life and practice that feel thoughtful, grounded, and entirely her own.
In this conversation, Layla reflects on beauty, ritual and the guiding principle that underpins both her work and personal life — care. What unfolds is an intimate look at the alignment she seeks, and the quiet strength she finds in softness.
What was a moment that changed your perception of beauty?
I don’t often think about beauty in relation to appearance. But when I think about the first person I truly considered beautiful, it was my grandmother.
She was elegant without trying — not perfect, but deeply at ease. A vegetarian, a Buddhist, a yogi, unusual for her generation, and that way of living showed in her appearance and on her face. Despite life’s struggles, she chose peace, connection and simple, healthy habits.
Since she passed nine years ago, I’ve realised that beauty, to me, is alignment in all areas of life.
How did your journey from architecture, fine art, and curatorial practice lead you to founding softedge studio?
Architecture taught me to think structurally, fine art encouraged material experimentation, and curatorial practice shaped my sensitivity to context and narrative. All of that informs Softedge — but it didn’t begin strategically. It began during a personal shift.
After my grandmother passed away, I felt burned out and disconnected. Before leaving Melbourne to study in London, I crewed on a yacht for a month and crossed the ocean from New Zealand to Tonga. Days surrounded only by the horizon gave me clarity. I realised I didn’t want to move toward something more theoretical — I wanted something more intuitive and embodied.
Back in the Northern Rivers, I began working with clay again. Softedge emerged organically from that period — a way to explore care and gathering through objects.
“After my grandmother passed away, I felt burned out and disconnected. Before leaving Melbourne to study in London, I crewed on a yacht for a month and crossed the ocean from New Zealand to Tonga. Days surrounded only by the horizon gave me clarity. I realised I didn’t want to move toward something more theoretical — I wanted something more intuitive and embodied.”
What does a typical day look like for you, from morning to evening?
My days vary, but I anchor them with small rituals. I usually begin with gentle movement — a walk, stretching or yoga — followed by a simple breakfast and a few quiet minutes to read or write.
I don’t drink coffee, so I’m disciplined about sleep and stopping for lunch. I like to bookend the day with more movement — often a beach walk with my dog, usually ending in a swim.
Evenings are simple: cooking at home, sometimes a film, but more often a shower or bath and an early night with a book.
What is one grounding ritual that always brings you back to yourself?
A swim in the ocean and sitting on the sand, belly breathing.
Who is a muse for you when it comes to beauty, and who or what inspires you in your creative practice?
I’ve never consciously had a beauty muse, but perhaps Tilda Swinton. I admire how she is often barefaced, yet uses hair, makeup and fashion in a minimal, almost gestural way to express mood. There’s an elegance and luminosity to her that feels unique, yet entirely natural.
Creatively, I work intuitively and feel most clear in nature, or when ritual and meditation quiet my mind. I’m drawn to architecture, furniture and objects that value craftsmanship and restraint — designers like Eileen Gray and Charles Rennie Mackintosh, the refined geometry of Koloman Moser’s silverware, the sculptures, spaces and lighting of Isamu Noguchi, and the humility of Shoji Hamada’s pottery within the Mingei tradition.
I feel very lucky that Japan now feels like a second home. I spend my time there seeking out craft workshops, historic architecture, Zen temples and tea houses. I return often to the Japanese Folk Craft Museum in Tokyo and the Shoji Hamada Memorial Museum in Mashiko — places that remind me of the importance of beautiful, simple objects in everyday life.
“Creatively, I work intuitively and feel most clear in nature, or when ritual and meditation quiet my mind. I’m drawn to architecture, furniture and objects that value craftsmanship and restraint — designers like Eileen Gray and Charles Rennie Mackintosh, the refined geometry of Koloman Moser’s silverware, the sculptures, spaces and lighting of Isamu Noguchi, and the humility of Shoji Hamada’s pottery within the Mingei tradition.”
What has your skincare journey looked like?
My dad was militant about sunscreen, so that laid a strong foundation. Beyond that, I’ve always been fairly minimal — and often quite time-poor. I’m also sensitive to scent, which naturally limits my options. But I’ve come to see that as a blessing.
I honestly believe the biggest contributors to my complexion are water, sleep and diet. That said, I’m increasingly drawn to Eastern beauty practices as I get older — gua sha, facial massage, and techniques that support circulation and longevity in a non-invasive, preventive way.
What skincare product or practice do you come back to if your skin is unbalanced?
Humidity and hormones are really the only things that tend to disrupt my skin. Hormones are more of a long-term, internal balancing act, but environmentally, I try to respond gently rather than overcorrect. In winter, if things start to feel dry or reactive, I simplify everything back to a gentle cleanser and hydration — the Daily Jelly and Milky Emulsion have been really great.
How does beauty feel to you?
Calm.
What is one guiding principle you carry into both your work and personal life?
Care. The word curate has been somewhat co-opted in recent years, but its original meaning is “to take care of.” That has always resonated with me.
I try to curate my life in that sense — to move through it with care. Care for myself, for others, and for the work I put into the world. For me, care is more meaningful than effort or time; it’s about attention, intention and responsibility.
How does “softness” show up in your life, beyond your work?
Softness now means moving away from perfection and toward gentleness — in how I speak to myself and how I move through the world. It shows up in small, consistent ways: keeping routines even when deadlines loom, protecting time for rest, choosing patience over urgency.
“ I try to curate my life in that sense — to move through it with care. Care for myself, for others, and for the work I put into the world. For me, care is more meaningful than effort or time; it’s about attention, intention and responsibility.”
You can watch our morning with Layla Cluer, along with her daily rituals for a balanced day on YouTube.
Photos by Jasmine Lum Sutherland
Interviewed by Jasmine Lum Sutherland
This feature is part of our Perceptions Journal — a space to share thoughtful perspectives on beauty, ritual, and connection. Discover more of Layla and Softedge Studio here.
