The Most Wonderful Time of The Year: Nancy Meyers Season

Written By : Hannah Corbett

Now listen, I like Thanksgiving as much as the next person. The stuffing, the dessert, the performative turkey trot I insist on doing every year (and yes, I’m a Virgo and the eldest daughter ( interpret that as you will). But let’s not pretend we don’t all feel it, that slow, sparkling shift in the air when November turns. It’s not technically Christmas yet, but the plaid, the twinkle lights, the garland, the pops of red — they’re already whispering. It’s time. Plus it snowed the other day, so I think that is the beginning of the Christmas spirit..

But also for me, that means one thing: Nancy Meyers season.

Every year, without fail, something domestic and cinematic awakens in me. The living room gets rearranged to make space for the tree, candles flicker in every corner, and The Holiday or Something’s Gotta Give hums in the background, a kind of emotional wallpaper. The Holiday is actually a spiritual experience for me, I wish I was joking, but it's basically like my own version of church. The whole house starts to smell like balsam and nostalgia. It’s a ritual, really. A return to warmth, to comfort, to the kind of aesthetic that feels lived in and loved, the world according to Nancy.

Online, it’s been branded as “the Nancy Meyers aesthetic,” but what so many seem to miss is that it was never about perfection. It’s not about sterile minimalism or a matching set of anything. The ‘Meyers’ leading ladies live in their home — truly lives there. Her sweater is draped over the armchair, there’s a stack of books on the counter, a half-drunk glass of Chardonnay beside the stove. The couch blanket might have a tear in it, but it’s the softest one she owns. And that’s the magical imperfection that feels effortlessly intentional.

The ‘Nancy Meyers season’ isn’t really about décor; it’s about presence. It’s about romanticizing the in-between moments, the ones that smell like coffee in a French mug and sound like an old jazz record.. It’s about creating space for joy, softness, and beauty to coexist in the everyday.

So yes, Thanksgiving has its charm. But as soon as I catch the scent of pine in the air or see the first window glisten with holiday light, I feel it. That familiar warmth. That quiet elegance. That reminder that home isn’t just where you live,  it’s how you live.

So with that, let Nancy Meyers season commence!