On TikTok and Instagram, the phrase “Ralph Lauren Christmas” has surged by over 600% compared to last year, while Etsy searches for related decor are up more than 180%, and Google Trends showing the phrase going to unprecedented heights. “This search trajectory suggests the trend has moved beyond niche interest into mainstream holiday planning behavior,” said Chase Varga, Director of Marketing at ListenFirst, a marketing analysis firm founded in 2012.
Scrolling social feeds reveals a relentless parade of fireplace mantels draped in plaid and velvet, clusters of vintage nutcrackers beneath dark-wood shelves, and tablescapes positively roaring with holiday maximalism. Much of the aesthetic is rooted in nostalgia for the 1990s—a time when American opulence and the heirloom “good Christmas” felt accessible and aspirational at the same time.
Opulence, on a shoestring
Yet, what’s striking about the trend’s viral run is not a rush on luxury home retailers, but the sheer number of creators frank about finding “the look” at thrift stores, chain discounters, or dollar stores. Faux brass candlesticks, plastic nutcrackers, and off-brand plaid blankets are hauled out as budget stand-ins for the designer’s signature style. Where original pieces can easily cost hundreds, the challenge—and the thrill—is achieving the aura of a Ralph Lauren Christmas at a fraction of the price.
This isn’t just driven by aesthetic longing—it’s economic necessity. Inflation and rising costs have pounded the holiday budgets of most Americans, with many stretching their dollars further and starting their holiday planning earlier. Retailers themselves lean into the trend: even premium guides for replicating the “heritage” style pair aspirational items with affordable alternatives from mass-market stores.
Consumers chase traditional cues—tartan throws, velvet ribbons, gold baubles—sourced wherever they can be found. Social media groups and YouTube channels brim with tips for “dupes” and convincing DIYs that evoke the comfort and warmth of the Ralph Lauren look, minus the price tag. For many, assembling these elements isn’t aspirational irony but an earnest desire to conjure the cozy, elegant holidays they remember from childhood or the Hollywood dreams.
Nostalgia, or something more?
Some critics online question whether this “trend” repackages basic Christmas traditions under a new label. Yet for others—especially Millennials and Gen Z creators who grew up yearning for catalog holidays—“Ralph Lauren Christmas” describes a mood as much as a collection of objects: a longing for warmth, security, and family gatherings in uncertain times.
The style’s core motifs—a roaring fire, deep jewel tones, layers of texture—evoke not just designer luxury, but memories of grandparents’ houses and TV holiday specials. In a jittery economy, the comfort found in ritual, tradition, and a whiff of elegance conjuring “old money” (another breakout search term) feels especially magnetic.
No matter where it’s sourced, the Ralph Lauren Christmas is less about brand names and more about atmosphere. The Ralph Lauren Christmas of 2025 owes as much to nostalgia and the ingenuity of ordinary Americans as it does to Madison Avenue—proof that with enough fairy lights, brass-look candlesticks, and dollar-store tartan ribbon, anyone can conjure up a bit of ‘90s opulent holiday magic.
For this story, Fortune used generative AI to help with an initial draft. An editor verified the accuracy of the information before publishing.
