Why Warmth Wins: Why Cold Christmases Are a Feeble Imitation to Celebrating in Summer.
If we have gleaned anything from the influx of holiday movies, ubiquitous decorations, and jingle bell-infused songs, it's that the popular narrative has determined Christmas is a holiday best served chilly. So they say!
The powers that be in the top of the equator may have convinced the world, but that's only because they lack the inherent understanding we southern hemisphere folk possess: a warm Christmas is simply superior. This season is stressful enough – irrespective of temperature – but at least we don't have to contend with seasonal depression on top of it all.
Frosty Formative Years
And this isn't just an empty claim. I spent my formative years experiencing cold festive seasons. Despite my family originating in New Zealand, my father's career meant inevitable international moves. My younger years were spent in the UK and the US, meaning every December brought dark skies by 4pm and a biting chill on my cheeks. The sole upside? The style options; layering is effortlessly chic.
In all honesty, a cold Christmas has its appeal. It's traditional, classic, and the prospect of snow is truly magical. The cosy charm of a frosty gathering is hard to dismiss. Yet, with my extended family an ocean away, I always felt I was missing out an true celebration that not even the most decadent hot chocolate could replicate.
A Move to Summer
Everything changed when another move brought my family to Australia. There, I finally experienced a proper festive family affair, joined by more family for the first time. With a bigger crowd to entertain, my father got experimental in the kitchen, concocting a potent vodka jelly that was famously strong. We slept soundly that night.
This became our routine for years – sharing the day with family and friends, complete with water gun fights across the table. That was, until my parents heeded the opportunity of a new job and moved to a notoriously chilly part of northern England.
Nostalgia's Surprise
Visiting them for Christmas after a long absence, I expected a surge of fond remembrance. Instead, I found myself yearning for everything that made a summer Christmas unique. Enjoying a cool drink in the sun. Noshing on piles of fresh fruit. Loved ones being just a phone call away. Hot-pink sunsets painting the sky. In that moment, I was a hot-Christmas convert.
"The warmth soothed the sorrow in monumental ways."
This feeling was cemented after my father passed away. My mother decided to move back to New Zealand. The first Christmas without him was incredibly tough, his loss palpable everywhere. Yet, being once again surrounded by family under the soft warmth of the summer sun helped ease the grief in profound ways.
A Self-Proclaimed Hypocrite
All this said, I must confess to being a walking contradiction. This year, I'll be spending Christmas during winter in South Korea, and I'm truly looking forward to wander around Seoul in my warmest jacket, hoping for a snowfall. The cold Christmas propaganda still has a little hold on me!
Nevertheless, I'm eager to return home for another New Year's Day under the Australian summer sun. Knowing my family – including a newborn nephew – will be close by as we enter the new year fills me with a happiness my younger self always craved. Not even the deepest powder can compare to that feeling.
