What to wear for holiday card photos — quiet cream, terracotta, forest, and charcoal that still look like your family on a 5×7 in February.
The note I email a family so they show up ready — not the Sunday I lost to tabs.
Fall family photo outfits in the Abel palette — warm terracotta, deep forest green, and charcoal — make outdoor autumn sessions feel moody, grounded, and genuinely timeless.
What to tell clients to wear for tree farm photos is layers and boots they can walk the mud in, colors that sit quiet against the evergreen, and a coat that can stay on in the picture. I pick that once and email the same note to every booked farm mini. I don't restyle each family in the gravel lot while the next van is still looking for a place to park.
You know that Saturday. The next last name is already unbuckling, somebody's kid is already on the path in the white sneakers they packed because they looked cute in the driveway, and the mud is going to eat those shoes before you get anyone to the first row. It smells like cold air and cut pine out there, and you're trying to walk a whole family from the lot into the trees without inventing a new color story for whoever just pulled in.
Tree-farm outfit guidance is the note I reuse for every farm mini so people show up ready to walk the rows — boots that survive mud, layers for the cold, cream and forest and terracotta that don't fight the trees, and a coat that looks like they meant it if they keep it on. It is not Christmas-matching. It is one email for the farm day, not a new color story for each last name.
A farm has to walk the rows in the mud. A holiday card has to print and live on a fridge — so if you already email what to wear for holiday card photos, keep that note for the card and this one for the walk. A Christmas session in the living room is a different note too — what to wear for Christmas family photos — and I don't paste that gallery onto mud and boots.
I pick the clothes once, I put them on one shoppable link, and I email that same note to every booked slot so I'm not rebuilding outfits in the lot. If you want the longer version of what a client style guide is, it's that same idea — one link, not a folder of screenshots.
A field mini can get away with a light layer and sneakers that stay mostly clean. The farm will not. If you already wrote the field mini note, keep that one for the grass afternoon, because this is a different day. Same clock, sure, fifteen minutes and the next van waiting, but the ground under their feet is a whole other job.
Evergreen eats loud color in a way a warm field just doesn't. A neon rain shell turns into the only thing you see against the trees, and a giant logo reads like a sign in every vertical, so I keep the colors quiet and let the family be what you notice.
Mud and cold do the rest. Somebody is going to walk those rows in whatever they packed, and coats stay in the frame more than they do on a warm field, either on a person or folded over an arm. I pick a coat that looks like it belongs, not one they're already sorry about two rows in, because you're dressing people who have to walk, not people who get to stand on a dry patch of grass.
I pick cream, forest, terracotta, and charcoal for the whole farm day. Abel is just the proof under the tiles — those four, plus camel so a little brown in a plaid has a home.
Cream is the quiet dress against all that green, forest sits with the trees instead of fighting them, and terracotta is the warm one so the gallery doesn't go all pine. Charcoal holds the dads and the kids who need a dark quiet piece. I do not add a fifth story because somebody already owns a lot of cranberry.
One set of colors for every slot on the mini day is how you stop restyling in the lot. The families can swap a silhouette if a size is weird, and they cannot open a new color because the lot feels festive.
This is the note I reuse when someone asks what to wear for a tree farm mini session. Swap the names, the date, and the link. That's it.
Copy this to the family
Hey [family] — can't wait to shoot y'all at the tree farm on [date].
I'm picking outfits for the whole mini day so you can shop once and be done. Think layers and boots you can actually walk the rows in. Coats can stay on — pick one that looks like you meant it, not a neon shell.
Mom, the cream floral maxi with the tiny flowers and long sleeves. Terracotta tiered if she wants the warm one. Forest flutter-sleeve if she'd rather go deeper. There's an olive knit cardigan if she wants a layer that still looks good in the frame. Dad, the forest knit with the collar and charcoal chinos — black crew if he'd rather a plain sweater, forest crew if he wants another green.
For [girl], the charcoal smocked dress. Forest long-sleeve ruffle if she wants sleeves, olive green if she wants a third shape — not Mom's dress smaller. [Boy] gets a forest long-sleeve tee and charcoal joggers — forest v-neck if he'd rather a knit. Baby gets the charcoal dotted skater, or the brown-and-rust plaid jumper set if you want a second look.
A try-on photo is helpful if you've got one. Not required.
If a size is off, reply and I'll swap that person. Leave the white sneakers, neon rain shells, character sweaters, heels, and giant logos at home, yeah? Boots you can walk in. Coats that can stay on.
Shop it all here: [link]
Email it 10–14 days out. If they booked late, email this same note the day they grab the slot. I don't wait for a prettier window, and I don't write a new color story because they found me four days out. Names, date, and the link are the only swap. Every farm mini on the list gets this.
Build the farm-day guide
Pick the outfits once, drop them on one shoppable link, and email that same note to every booked farm mini.
Try Shutterstyle free →I tell them the clothes. I don't ask what they're feeling. Women and girls get dresses, kids have to actually move between the trees, and baby has to live in a carrier for half the slot. Nobody needs a costume tree sweater doing all the talking.
The cream maxi is the quiet one against the trees — tiny flowers, square neck, long sleeves, and a hem she can actually walk in. Terracotta is solid and smocked, with those soft tiers, if she wants the warm one. Forest is the flutter-sleeve midi with a little embroidery at the bodice if she'd rather go deeper. Then the olive knit — long, easy, the layer I want in the picture if the coat comes off or stays on her shoulders. Three dresses and a layer, not the same dress in two lengths.
Dad's the easy yes — a forest sweater-shirt with a little cream at the cuff and charcoal chinos under it, a black crew if a collar feels like too much, or a forest crew if he'd rather skip the buttons and stay green. He looks like himself, and he can crouch in the mud if the kid does.
The girl does not wear Mom's dress smaller. She gets charcoal smocked poplin if I want a simple dark dress, a forest ribbed ruffle if she wants long sleeves and a different shape, or olive green if I want a third look that is still farm, still quiet, and still not a twin. Three looks, and not copies.
Boy gets a forest long-sleeve tee and charcoal woven joggers so he can run the rows, or a forest v-neck if a sweater goes down easier. He will not stand still between the trees, so dress him like that's true.
Baby stays soft and carrier-friendly, in a charcoal dotted skater if I want her in the dark quiet pattern — long sleeves, easy to tuck against a chest — or a brown-and-rust plaid jumper over a shirt if I want a second look, not a tiny maxi. Hip, carrier, and you're done. I don't put her in a costume tree sweater that takes over the frame.
Women and girls get dresses. That's what I ask for, every family, all afternoon. You're not talking someone into a tee with six minutes on the clock and mud on the path.
I say this in the same email. I don't wait until I see the shoes in the lot.
White sneakers look cute in the driveway and they look wrecked three trees in. I want boots they can walk the rows in — something that can get dirty and still look like they meant it. Neon rain shells and character sweaters, the ones with the giant tree and the slogan across the chest, take over the frame faster than anything else on the farm.
Heels, anything they can't walk the rows in, a giant logo, and a coat they only brought for the walk — the one you'll spend the slot hiding — stay in the van. They can swap a silhouette, and they cannot add a fifth color because the lot is cold.
Wrong shoes in the lot happens, so I don't invent a new palette. Keep them on the drier path, shoot a little tighter, and if they have boots in the car, they change before you walk in. You do not rebuild terracotta because somebody wore canvas.
Somebody underdressed? Coat back on — an olive knit or a charcoal layer over the thin piece. The colors you already picked are still the colors, and you're covering, not starting over.
Toddler refuses the coat, and that's fine. A few frames with it on, a few with it over your arm or on a sibling's shoulders, and you keep moving. The dress or the knit underneath is still the one you assigned, so you do not bargain a new color story in minute four. Thirty seconds of that, then you walk, because the next van is already unbuckling.
No. A field mini is grass, volume, and a reused email for a warm-ish afternoon. Tree farm mini session outfits still reuse one email, but the ground is mud, the backdrop is evergreen, and coats stay in the frame. I don't paste the field note and swap in "farm."
No. A card has to print and sit on a fridge, and the farm has to walk. Christmas tree farm mini session outfits can be quieter than a costume sweater, but I'm not dressing a card that has to last till February — I'm dressing boots, layers, and fifteen minutes in the rows.
Layers, boots they can walk mud in, quiet colors against the trees, and a coat that can stay on — the same note I pasted above. Names, date, and the link are the only swap.
Cream, forest, terracotta, and charcoal sit quiet against the trees instead of fighting them, while loud shells, giant logos, and costume tree sweaters take over the green. Keep the colors still and let the family move.
Yes — that's the point. Cream, forest, terracotta, charcoal, one shoppable guide, the same email, every slot. I don't open a second color story for family six.
On is fine. Off is fine if the layer under it is still the one you picked. What I don't want is a neon shell they only brought for the walk. If the coat is going to be in the picture — and on a farm, it will — it should look like they meant it.
Planning your own family photos?
Browse more palettes and what-to-wear guides on the Shutterstyle blog.
See more palettes →Styling clients as a photographer?
Save these pieces into a shareable client style guide your clients will actually follow.
Build a guide in 5 minutes →If you want a hand, copy the Abel family guide, assign the people, and email that same link to every booked farm mini. Shutterstyle is how I do that now — I build the guide once, and the Saturday itself is just walking families into the rows.
If you landed here as a client, send this to your photographer so they can pick the clothes and you can shop one link before you pull into the gravel lot.
Anyway — pick the clothes once, email the same link to every booked farm mini, and get out of that gravel-lot scramble, yeah? Which Saturday are you emailing first?
Ten to fourteen days out. Late booking? Email the same note the day they take the slot. Not from the gravel lot while the next van idles.
Yes. Women and girls get dresses in the notes I email for the farm. Boys get a knit or a tee and pants they can run in. Dresses photograph clean against the trees, and you're not arguing a tee-and-shorts swap with six minutes on the clock.
Don't rewrite the colors — stay on the drier path, crop a little kinder, and if boots are in the car, they change. Next year, the email says boots before they pack the van.
Forest and terracotta already sit in that lane, so I don't open a costume sweater because they said festive. Same four colors, same note.
