The Living Room, the Backyard, the Chaos: How American Families Are Rethinking Holiday Portraits This Year

Every November my inbox fills with a version of the same message: the tree, the fireplace, the coordinated sweaters, the whole production. I have shot that session a hundred times and I will gladly shoot it a hundred more. But the requests arriving for this season read differently. Families booking holiday portraits now are asking for something looser — pictures that look like their actual December instead of a catalog version of it.

I pulled up my notes from the past few winters, plus a pile of client emails, and the same seven patterns kept surfacing. Here they are, along with the boring-but-important logistics that make each one hold together.

1. The living room becomes the set

In-home documentary sessions have quietly become my most-requested holiday format. No seamless backdrop, no light stands dragged through the front door — just window light, whatever is actually on the walls, and the family doing what they normally do on a Sunday in December.

Last winter I spent forty minutes on the kitchen floor of a family in suburban New Jersey while two kids decorated cookies and a grandmother narrated the proceedings. The frame that ended up framed on their staircase was not the one by the tree. It was the four-year-old licking frosting off a spoon while everyone else pretended not to notice.

One styling note: tidy a corner, not the house. Clear the counter where we will shoot, open the curtains, and leave the rest alone. The mess is usually the part people love later.

2. Matching outfits are out, a shared palette is in

Nobody threw the family pajamas away. But the brief has shifted from identical to coordinated — two or three colors, mixed textures, clothes people would wear to a neighbor's party. Cream, oatmeal, forest green, and a little rust are the palette showing up most in my mood boards this year.

Skip shirts with logos and anything with a slogan. They date fast, and a holiday photo is a ten-year object. If you want one piece to read as festive, make it a knit or a scarf rather than a printed graphic.

3. Golden hour is beating studio hour

Outdoor December sessions used to feel like a West Coast thing. This year I am shooting them in backyards in Virginia, on lake docks in Michigan, and in city parks where the light drops behind the buildings around 4:30. The trade-off is obvious: less light, more layers. The payoff is warmth and movement you cannot fake with a flash.

Practical notes from someone who has been cold on a lot of these shoots: schedule 60 to 90 minutes before sunset, keep coats nearby for the gaps between setups, and have a backup — a covered porch, an open garage door, or a reschedule window baked into the booking. December weather does not negotiate.

4. Grandparents are getting their own frames

A multi-generational portrait used to be an add-on. Now it is often the reason for the booking. Families are flying parents in for Thanksgiving and want the whole group documented before everyone scatters again.

My advice: shoot the big group first, while energy is high and nobody has spilled anything. Then release the kids and do the smaller combinations — grandparents alone, grandparents with each grandchild, siblings. The two-minute window where a grandfather forgets the camera is on and just looks at his wife is worth more than any arrangement I could build.

5. Pets have been promoted to cast members

The dog is no longer an accessory squeezed into the last five minutes. Families are naming their pets in the first email. Good. Bring a treat pouch, a favorite toy with a squeak, and ideally a second human whose only job is wrangling. Dogs read tension instantly — if the people are stressed, the dog photographs stressed. Loosen the humans and the animal follows.

6. Tasks beat posing

Ask a family to say cheese and you get the expression cheese deserves. Instead, give them something to do. Hand out cocoa. Ask the youngest to tell the worst joke they know. Ask the parents to describe what they were doing this exact week ten years ago. The frames on either side of the posed moment — the blink, the reach, the laugh that breaks the hold — are the ones clients print.

This is also why in-between moments photograph better than arrangements. A hug has a beginning, a middle, and an end, and the end is usually the true one.

7. Book earlier, print later

Holiday dates around here fill by early October, and this year was no exception. Standard turnaround runs two to three weeks, which means a session after Thanksgiving is tight if you want cards in mailboxes before the 20th.

A schedule that works well: shoot in late October or early November for cards and gifts, then book a quieter January session for the wall pieces — the large print for the hallway, the album for the grandparents. Labs are calmer in January, and you will be choosing images with less holiday brain fog.

If you are booking a session now

• Decide the format before the date. In-home and outdoor sessions solve different problems.
• Tell me who is coming, including pets and anyone who hates being photographed. I plan around the second group specifically.
• Choose the palette before the outfits. It saves a group chat.
• Build in twenty minutes of buffer for late arrivals, wardrobe changes, and toddler negotiations.
• Ask about the illness and weather reschedule policy up front, and get it in writing, so nobody has to make an awkward call the morning of.

The holiday photo families keep is rarely the one where everyone looked perfect. It is the one where everyone looked like themselves and you can almost hear the room when you walk past it.