🔗 Share this article Some Like It Hot: The Argument Against Frosty Festivities Are a Feeble Imitation to a Sunny Season's Celebration. Should we have gleaned anything from the deluge of holiday movies, mass-produced decorations, and festively themed songs, it's that the cultural zeitgeist has determined Christmas is a holiday best served chilly. So they say! The bigwigs residing above the equator may have sold this idea globally, but that's only because they lack the innate knowledge we denizens of the south possess: a warm Christmas is simply the better way. This season is stressful enough – irrespective 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 hot air. I spent my formative years 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 early nightfall and a crisp sting on my cheeks. The sole silver lining? The fashion choices; bundling up is effortlessly chic. In all honesty, a cold Christmas has its charms. It's traditional, classic, and the possibility of snow is truly 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 lacking an true celebration that not even the richest 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 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 left everyone reeling. 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. A Revelation in Reverse Visiting them for Christmas after a long absence, I expected a surge of fond remembrance. Instead, I found myself yearning for everything that made a summer Christmas unique. Enjoying a cool drink in the sun. Feasting upon piles of fresh fruit. Loved ones being just a phone call away. Hot-pink sunsets stretched across the sky. Suddenly, I was a summer celebration advocate. "That summer heat soothed the sorrow 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 loss palpable everywhere. Yet, being once more surrounded by family under the soft warmth of the summer sun alleviated the grief in profound ways. A Self-Proclaimed Hypocrite All this said, I readily admit to being a massive hypocrite. This year, I'll be spending Christmas during winter in South Korea, and I'm genuinely excited to explore Seoul in my fluffiest coat, 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 bright southern sun. Knowing my family – including a newest member – will be nearby as we enter the new year fills me with a happiness my younger self always yearned for. Not even the deepest powder can hold a candle to that feeling.
Should we have gleaned anything from the deluge of holiday movies, mass-produced decorations, and festively themed songs, it's that the cultural zeitgeist has determined Christmas is a holiday best served chilly. So they say! The bigwigs residing above the equator may have sold this idea globally, but that's only because they lack the innate knowledge we denizens of the south possess: a warm Christmas is simply the better way. This season is stressful enough – irrespective 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 hot air. I spent my formative years 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 early nightfall and a crisp sting on my cheeks. The sole silver lining? The fashion choices; bundling up is effortlessly chic. In all honesty, a cold Christmas has its charms. It's traditional, classic, and the possibility of snow is truly 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 lacking an true celebration that not even the richest 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 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 left everyone reeling. 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. A Revelation in Reverse Visiting them for Christmas after a long absence, I expected a surge of fond remembrance. Instead, I found myself yearning for everything that made a summer Christmas unique. Enjoying a cool drink in the sun. Feasting upon piles of fresh fruit. Loved ones being just a phone call away. Hot-pink sunsets stretched across the sky. Suddenly, I was a summer celebration advocate. "That summer heat soothed the sorrow 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 loss palpable everywhere. Yet, being once more surrounded by family under the soft warmth of the summer sun alleviated the grief in profound ways. A Self-Proclaimed Hypocrite All this said, I readily admit to being a massive hypocrite. This year, I'll be spending Christmas during winter in South Korea, and I'm genuinely excited to explore Seoul in my fluffiest coat, 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 bright southern sun. Knowing my family – including a newest member – will be nearby as we enter the new year fills me with a happiness my younger self always yearned for. Not even the deepest powder can hold a candle to that feeling.