A Ralph Lauren Holiday
Written By : Hannah Corbett
I’ve always said that in another life, I’d be an interior designer. There’s something about rearranging furniture that feels deeply therapeutic to me. It’s not just about style—it’s about energy. My own version of feng shui. I’ll spend an entire afternoon pushing the sofa to a new wall or swapping rugs between rooms, and suddenly the whole place feels brand new. It’s a reset.
When you layer holiday decorations on top of that? It becomes a full-on transformation. For some, the thought of adding garland, ribbons, and stockings on top of their regular decor sounds like clutter. For me, it’s magic. It’s an invitation to reimagine the space entirely. I change rugs, switch out art prints, and replace the little everyday objects—candles, bowls, picture frames—with pieces that carry the warmth of the season. The process feels less like decorating and more like storytelling oasis.
Lately, I’ve been seeing a lot online about the “Ralph Lauren Christmas.” Think tartan everything, dark wood, brass accents, and candlelight flickering against deep green velvet. The kind of home you imagine exists in a Ralph Lauren catalog circa 1998, where a golden retriever naps beside a fire, someone is wrapping gifts in brown paper and silk ribbon. It’s the idea that a lived-in home can still feel cinematic.
And it’s funny, because while people online are just discovering it, that’s always been my Christmas aesthetic. Classic. Layered—where everything feels cozy but endlessly chic. The plaid scarves, the wool coats, the golden glow of lights in a windowpane. That’s the world I want to live in every December. (and November)
What I’ll never understand is the people who reinvent their holiday theme every year. A new color palette, a new tree aesthetic, even brand-new ornaments. Don’t get me wrong—it’s fun to play with trends. But to me, half the joy of the season is the tradition of pulling out the same bins from the garage. Seeing the same stockings you’ve had since childhood. The same slightly mismatched ornaments, the same snow globe with the little chip on the base, the same velvet bows that have somehow lasted ten years. It’s the repetition that makes it comforting.
Growing up, I was the one who’d get the decorations ready. As soon as the first chill hit the air, I’d be pulling the bins out, untangling lights, checking for missing hooks. Decorating day slowly crept earlier each year—first December 1st, then Thanksgiving weekend, and now November 10th doesn’t sound too early anymore. There’s something about filling your space with sparkle and nostalgia that just makes everything feel lighter.
And the best part? It doesn’t have to look perfect. Some of my favorite corners of my home are the ones that feel a little accidental. A garland draped slightly uneven, a candle that’s burned down too low, an ornament hung by a too-short ribbon. It adds charecter.
If there’s one thing the Ralph Lauren Christmas aesthetic gets right, it’s that timeless doesn’t mean stiff—it means lived in. It’s about wool throws folded over an armchair, not staged. It’s about a room that feels like it’s been loved for decades, layered with stories and soft lighting. The same goes for J.Crew’s older holiday campaigns—back when the ads looked like stills from a Nancy Meyers film. The clothes weren’t overly styled; they were just worn well. It’s that kind of quiet confidence I crave in a home.
So yes, maybe in another life, I’d be an interior designer. But for now, I’ll happily settle for being the friend who takes holiday decorating way too seriously.