🔗 Share this article Why Warmth Wins: The Argument Against Frosty Festivities Are a Feeble Imitation to Celebrating in Summer. Should we have learned anything from the influx of holiday movies, mass-produced decorations, and jingle bell-infused songs, it's that the popular narrative has determined Christmas is a holiday best served chilly. So they say! The bigwigs in the top of the equator may have sold this idea globally, but that's only because they are without the inherent understanding we denizens of the south possess: a warm Christmas is simply the better way. This season is fraught 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 entire childhood 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 early nightfall and a biting chill on my cheeks. The sole upside? The fashion choices; bundling up is inherently stylish. In all honesty, a cold Christmas has its appeal. It's time-honored, classic, and the possibility of snow is truly magical. The cosy charm of a frosty gathering 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 richest 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 was famously strong. We all slept well that night. This became our tradition for years – celebrating together with family and friends, complete with playful battles 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 anticipated a wave of nostalgic longing. Instead, I found myself yearning for everything that made a summer Christmas special. Sipping sangria in the sun. Noshing on piles of fresh fruit. Loved ones being just a short drive away. Hot-pink sunsets painting the sky. Suddenly, I was a summer celebration advocate. "That summer heat soothed the sorrow in significant 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 more 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 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 slight grip on me! Still, I'm keen to return home for another New Year's Day under the bright southern sun. Knowing my family – including a newborn nephew – will be close by 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 learned anything from the influx of holiday movies, mass-produced decorations, and jingle bell-infused songs, it's that the popular narrative has determined Christmas is a holiday best served chilly. So they say! The bigwigs in the top of the equator may have sold this idea globally, but that's only because they are without the inherent understanding we denizens of the south possess: a warm Christmas is simply the better way. This season is fraught 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 entire childhood 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 early nightfall and a biting chill on my cheeks. The sole upside? The fashion choices; bundling up is inherently stylish. In all honesty, a cold Christmas has its appeal. It's time-honored, classic, and the possibility of snow is truly magical. The cosy charm of a frosty gathering 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 richest 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 was famously strong. We all slept well that night. This became our tradition for years – celebrating together with family and friends, complete with playful battles 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 anticipated a wave of nostalgic longing. Instead, I found myself yearning for everything that made a summer Christmas special. Sipping sangria in the sun. Noshing on piles of fresh fruit. Loved ones being just a short drive away. Hot-pink sunsets painting the sky. Suddenly, I was a summer celebration advocate. "That summer heat soothed the sorrow in significant 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 more 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 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 slight grip on me! Still, I'm keen to return home for another New Year's Day under the bright southern sun. Knowing my family – including a newborn nephew – will be close by 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.