Why Warmth Wins: Why Cold Christmases Are a Feeble Imitation to Celebrating in Summer.

If we have learned anything from the influx of holiday movies, mass-produced decorations, and festively themed songs, it's that the cultural zeitgeist has determined Christmas is a holiday best served cold. So they say!

The bigwigs in the top of the equator may have convinced the world, but that's only because they are without the innate knowledge 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 battle seasonal depression on top of it all.

A Chilly Childhood

And this isn't just an empty claim. I spent my entire childhood enduring cold festive seasons. Despite my family originating in New Zealand, my father's career led to inevitable international moves. My younger years were spent in the UK and the US, meaning every December brought dark skies by 4pm and a crisp sting on my cheeks. The sole upside? The style options; layering is effortlessly chic.

In all honesty, a cold Christmas has its charms. It's time-honored, classic, and the prospect of snow is truly magical. The snug appeal of a chilly celebration is hard to disregard. 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.

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 bigger crowd to entertain, my father got creative in the kitchen, concocting a potent vodka jelly that was famously strong. We all slept well 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 answered the call of a new job and moved to a particularly cold part of northern England.

Nostalgia's Surprise

Visiting them for Christmas after a long absence, I anticipated a surge of nostalgic longing. 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 short drive away. Vibrant sunsets stretched across the sky. Suddenly, I was a summer celebration advocate.

"The warmth eased the grief in monumental ways."

This feeling was reinforced after my father passed away. My mother decided to return home to New Zealand. The first Christmas without him was profoundly difficult, his absence felt 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 readily admit to being a walking contradiction. This year, I'll be celebrating during winter in South Korea, and I'm genuinely excited to explore Seoul in my fluffiest coat, hoping for a glimpse of snow. The cold Christmas propaganda still has a slight grip on me!

Nevertheless, I'm keen to return home for another New Year's Day under the bright southern sun. Knowing my family – including a newest member – 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.