Here they are, in order of increasing weirdness. Wheat if you're classy. Bones if you're not. And if you fall somewhere in between, there's kale and a feather boa waiting for you.

Fall is best known as an excuse to hang things on your front door. September gets "harvest chic," October demands something disturbing, and November? I mean, why even bother - November, yuck.
I have four wreaths-spanning tasteful to terrifying-that'll get you through the next month without once resorting to plaid ribbon.
Although I do enjoy a good plaid ribbon.
Table of Contents
The Minimalist Wheat Wreath

This one is for people who like fall but don't feel the need to scream it from their front porch with a bale of hay and a scarecrow in overalls. A simple metal hoop, a handful of wheat stalks, and you've got a wreath that says, Yes, I acknowledge the harvest season. Calm down. It's spare, elegant, and maybe the only wreath in existence that would look good in a modern loft or on a century-old cottage. Call it farm chic. Or just call it "I had thirty minutes and a piece of wire.
Half an hour, one wire hoop, and suddenly you look Scandinavian. See how to make this minimalist wreath.
The Black Feather Boa Wreath
(The Lenny)

Made from black boas, gauze, and glittery skulls, it's dramatic in that way only unnecessary accessories can be. Not many things can handle a feather boa without looking ridiculous. Lenny Kravitz can. This wreath can. That's the company I keep. Basically, it's your door channeling Lenny Kravitz and Axl Rose - if you ask me anything, anyway.
Feather boas don't just belong on rock stars. They belong on your door. Learn how to make The Lenny here.
The Kale Seedpod Wreath

Would you like to save this stuff?
Kale isn't just the thing you bought once in 2014 because Gwyneth said you should. By fall, it bolts, sets seed, and leaves you with pods that look like nature's answer to witch fingers. Which is exactly why they're perfect for a wreath. It's wiry, wild, and just a little unsettling-like if Martha Stewart went through a feral phase.
This thing will hang on your door for weeks, no watering, no fluffing, no fake berries hot-glued to it. Just honest-to-God dead plant parts looking weirdly sophisticated.
Think kale is only good for smoothies? Fool. Here's how to make it into a wreath.
The Bone Wreath

Here's where we abandon elegance and head straight for "creepy relative who collects teeth" territory. The bone wreath is exactly what it sounds like: chicken bones you've cleaned, bleached, and wired into a ring of pure discomfort. It looks like something found in a crime scene photo-and that's the point. Halloween decorations are supposed to make people nervous. This one does it beautifully. Guests will ask what it's made of. You'll tell them. They'll regret asking. A perfect Halloween interaction.
You'll never look at a Costco chicken the same way again. Here's your tutorial on making a wreath of bones.
Pick your poison: wheat if you want polite, bones if you want unsettling, kale if you're resourceful, feathers if you're gonna go my way. There's no wrong choice. Unless it involves a "Live, Laugh, Learn" sign made of raffia. Then it's wrong.
No wreath should be pretending it has life advice to hand out.
Randy P
I'm delighted there is a purpose for kale beyond pretending it's edible. I am luvin' the bones wreath. Thanks for sharing the fun.