Should we have gleaned anything from the deluge of holiday movies, ubiquitous decorations, and jingle bell-infused songs, it's that the popular narrative has determined Christmas is a holiday best served cold. Is that so?
The powers that be in the top of the equator may have sold this idea globally, but that's only because they lack the inherent understanding we denizens of the south possess: a warm 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 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 scattered across the UK and the US, meaning every December brought dark skies by 4pm and a biting chill on my cheeks. The sole silver lining? The style options; layering is effortlessly chic.
In fairness, a cold Christmas has its appeal. It's traditional, classic, and the prospect of snow is undeniably magical. The snug appeal 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.
The Southern Shift
Everything changed when another move brought my family to Australia. There, I finally experienced a full festive family affair, joined by extended relatives for the first time. With a larger group to entertain, my father got creative in the kitchen, concocting a heavily marinated vodka jelly that left everyone reeling. We slept soundly that night.
This became our tradition for years – sharing the day with family and friends, complete with playful battles 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 wave of fond remembrance. Instead, I found myself missing everything that made a summer Christmas special. Enjoying a cool drink in the sun. Noshing on piles of fresh fruit. Loved ones being just a short drive away. Hot-pink sunsets stretched across the sky. Suddenly, I was a hot-Christmas convert.
"That summer heat soothed the sorrow 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 soft warmth of the summer sun alleviated the grief in monumental ways.
A Self-Proclaimed Hypocrite
All this said, I must confess to being a massive hypocrite. This year, I'll be spending Christmas during winter in South Korea, and I'm genuinely excited to wander around Seoul in my warmest jacket, hoping for a glimpse of snow. 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 bright southern sun. Knowing my family – including a newborn nephew – will be nearby as we enter the new year fills me with a joy my younger self always yearned for. Not even the deepest powder can hold a candle to that feeling.
