Some Like It Hot: Why Cold Christmases Are a Feeble Imitation to a Sunny Season's Celebration.
Should we have gleaned anything from the deluge of holiday movies, mass-produced decorations, and festively themed songs, it's that the cultural zeitgeist has determined Christmas is a holiday best served frosty. Whatever!
The bigwigs in the top of the equator may have sold this idea globally, but that's only because they are without the innate knowledge we southern hemisphere folk possess: a sun-drenched Christmas is simply the better way. This season is fraught enough – regardless of temperature – but at least we don't have to contend with seasonal depression on top of it all.
A Chilly Childhood
And this isn't just hot air. I spent my formative years experiencing cold festive seasons. Despite my family hailing from New Zealand, my father's career meant inevitable international moves. My younger years were scattered across the UK and the US, meaning every December brought early nightfall and a crisp sting on my cheeks. The sole upside? The fashion choices; bundling up is effortlessly chic.
In fairness, a cold Christmas has its appeal. It's traditional, iconic, and the prospect of snow is undeniably enchanting. The snug appeal of a chilly celebration is hard to dismiss. Yet, with my extended family an ocean away, I always felt I was missing out an authentic celebration that not even the most decadent hot chocolate could make up for.
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 larger group to entertain, my father got creative in the kitchen, crafting a heavily marinated vodka jelly that was famously strong. We all slept well that night.
This became our routine for years – celebrating together 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 particularly cold part of northern England.
A Revelation in Reverse
Visiting them for Christmas after a long absence, I anticipated a surge of fond remembrance. Instead, I found myself missing everything that made a summer Christmas unique. Sipping sangria in the sun. Noshing on piles of fresh fruit. Loved ones being just a phone call away. Vibrant sunsets painting the sky. Suddenly, I was a hot-Christmas convert.
"That summer heat eased the grief in significant 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 profoundly difficult, his absence felt everywhere. Yet, being once more surrounded by family under the gentle heat of the summer sun alleviated the grief in monumental ways.
Conflicting Celebrations
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 explore Seoul in my fluffiest coat, hoping for a glimpse of snow. The frosty festive ideal still has a little hold on me!
Still, 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 joy my younger self always yearned for. Not even the deepest powder can compare to that feeling.
