🔗 Share this article The Case for Heat: 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 festively themed songs, it's that the cultural zeitgeist has determined Christmas is a holiday best served chilly. Is that so? 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 warm 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. 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 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; bundling up is effortlessly chic. In fairness, a cold Christmas has its charms. It's time-honored, classic, and the prospect of snow is truly enchanting. The cosy charm of a chilly celebration is hard to dismiss. Yet, with my extended family on the other side of the world, 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 proper festive family affair, joined by more family for the first time. With a bigger crowd to entertain, my father got creative in the kitchen, concocting a heavily marinated 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 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 anticipated a surge of nostalgic longing. Instead, I found myself yearning for 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. Hot-pink sunsets painting the sky. In that moment, I was a hot-Christmas convert. "That summer heat eased the grief in monumental 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 absence felt everywhere. Yet, being once again surrounded by family under the gentle heat of the summer sun alleviated the grief in monumental ways. Conflicting Celebrations 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 truly looking forward to explore Seoul in my fluffiest coat, hoping for a snowfall. The frosty festive ideal 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 newest member – 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 hold a candle to that feeling.
If we have gleaned anything from the influx of holiday movies, ubiquitous decorations, and festively themed songs, it's that the cultural zeitgeist has determined Christmas is a holiday best served chilly. Is that so? 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 warm 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. 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 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; bundling up is effortlessly chic. In fairness, a cold Christmas has its charms. It's time-honored, classic, and the prospect of snow is truly enchanting. The cosy charm of a chilly celebration is hard to dismiss. Yet, with my extended family on the other side of the world, 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 proper festive family affair, joined by more family for the first time. With a bigger crowd to entertain, my father got creative in the kitchen, concocting a heavily marinated 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 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 anticipated a surge of nostalgic longing. Instead, I found myself yearning for 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. Hot-pink sunsets painting the sky. In that moment, I was a hot-Christmas convert. "That summer heat eased the grief in monumental 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 absence felt everywhere. Yet, being once again surrounded by family under the gentle heat of the summer sun alleviated the grief in monumental ways. Conflicting Celebrations 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 truly looking forward to explore Seoul in my fluffiest coat, hoping for a snowfall. The frosty festive ideal 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 newest member – 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 hold a candle to that feeling.