Some Like It Hot: 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 cultural zeitgeist has determined Christmas is a holiday best served chilly. So they say!
The powers that be residing above the equator may have convinced the world, but that's only because they lack the innate knowledge we southern hemisphere folk possess: a sun-drenched Christmas is simply the better way. This season is stressful 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 an empty claim. I spent my entire childhood experiencing cold festive seasons. Despite my family originating in New Zealand, my father's career led to inevitable international moves. My younger years were scattered across the UK and the US, meaning every December brought dark skies by 4pm and a crisp sting on my cheeks. The sole silver lining? The style options; layering is inherently stylish.
In fairness, a cold Christmas has its charms. It's time-honored, iconic, and the possibility of snow is truly magical. The cosy charm of a chilly celebration is hard to disregard. Yet, with my extended family an ocean away, I always felt I was lacking an true celebration that not even the richest 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 full 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 left everyone reeling. We all slept well that night.
This became our tradition for years – sharing the day with family and friends, complete with water gun fights across the table. That was, until my parents answered the call of a new job and moved to a notoriously chilly part of northern England.
A Revelation in Reverse
Visiting them for Christmas after a long absence, I expected a surge of nostalgic longing. Instead, I found myself missing everything that made a summer Christmas special. Enjoying a cool drink in the sun. Feasting upon piles of fresh fruit. Loved ones being just a phone call away. Vibrant sunsets stretched across the sky. In that moment, I was a summer celebration advocate.
"That summer heat eased the grief in significant ways."
This feeling was reinforced 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 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 genuinely excited to wander around Seoul in my fluffiest coat, hoping for a glimpse of snow. The cold Christmas propaganda still has a slight grip on me!
Still, I'm keen to return home for another New Year's Day under the Australian summer sun. Knowing my family – including a newborn nephew – will be nearby as we enter the new year fills me with a happiness my younger self always yearned for. Not even the fluffiest snow can compare to that feeling.