Should we have learned anything from the deluge of holiday movies, ubiquitous decorations, and festively themed songs, it's that the popular narrative has decreed Christmas is a holiday best served chilly. Whatever!
The powers that be in the top of the equator may have sold this idea globally, but that's only because they are without the innate knowledge we denizens of the south 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 battle seasonal depression on top of it all.
Frosty Formative Years
And this isn't just hot air. 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 scattered across 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 inherently stylish.
In fairness, a cold Christmas has its appeal. It's time-honored, iconic, and the prospect of snow is undeniably enchanting. The cosy charm 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 replicate.
The Southern Shift
Everything changed when another move brought my family to Australia. There, I finally experienced a proper festive family affair, joined by extended relatives for the first time. With a larger group to entertain, my father got experimental in the kitchen, concocting a heavily marinated vodka jelly that left everyone reeling. We slept soundly 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 notoriously chilly part of northern England.
Nostalgia's Surprise
Visiting them for Christmas after a long absence, I anticipated a wave of fond remembrance. Instead, I found myself missing everything that made a summer Christmas special. Sipping sangria in the sun. Feasting upon piles of fresh fruit. Loved ones being just a short drive away. Hot-pink sunsets painting the sky. Suddenly, I was a hot-Christmas convert.
"The warmth eased the grief in significant 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 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.
A Self-Proclaimed Hypocrite
All this said, I readily admit to being a massive hypocrite. This year, I'll be celebrating during winter in South Korea, and I'm truly looking forward to wander around Seoul in my warmest jacket, hoping for a snowfall. 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 newest member – will be nearby as we enter the new year fills me with a joy my younger self always yearned for. Not even the fluffiest snow can hold a candle to that feeling.
