🔗 Share this article Why Warmth Wins: Why Cold Christmases Pale in Comparison to a Sunny Season's Celebration. Should we have gleaned anything from the influx of holiday movies, ubiquitous decorations, and jingle bell-infused songs, it's that the cultural zeitgeist has determined Christmas is a holiday best served frosty. So they say! The powers that be residing above the equator may have convinced the world, but that's only because they lack the innate knowledge we southern hemisphere folk 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 contend with seasonal depression on top of it all. A Chilly Childhood And this isn't just an empty claim. I spent my entire childhood experiencing cold festive seasons. Despite my family hailing from New Zealand, my father's career meant 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 silver lining? The fashion choices; layering is effortlessly chic. In fairness, a cold Christmas has its charms. It's time-honored, classic, and the prospect of snow is undeniably magical. The snug appeal of a frosty gathering 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 richest hot chocolate could replicate. A Move to Summer 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 larger group to entertain, my father got experimental in the kitchen, crafting a heavily marinated vodka jelly that was famously strong. We slept soundly that night. This became our tradition 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 wave of fond remembrance. Instead, I found myself missing everything that made a summer Christmas unique. Sipping sangria 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 hot-Christmas convert. "The warmth eased the grief in monumental ways." This feeling was cemented 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 more surrounded by family under the gentle heat of the summer sun helped ease the grief in monumental ways. A Self-Proclaimed Hypocrite All this said, I must confess 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 warmest jacket, 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 Australian summer 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 craved. Not even the fluffiest snow can hold a candle to that feeling.
Should we have gleaned anything from the influx of holiday movies, ubiquitous decorations, and jingle bell-infused songs, it's that the cultural zeitgeist has determined Christmas is a holiday best served frosty. So they say! The powers that be residing above the equator may have convinced the world, but that's only because they lack the innate knowledge we southern hemisphere folk 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 contend with seasonal depression on top of it all. A Chilly Childhood And this isn't just an empty claim. I spent my entire childhood experiencing cold festive seasons. Despite my family hailing from New Zealand, my father's career meant 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 silver lining? The fashion choices; layering is effortlessly chic. In fairness, a cold Christmas has its charms. It's time-honored, classic, and the prospect of snow is undeniably magical. The snug appeal of a frosty gathering 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 richest hot chocolate could replicate. A Move to Summer 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 larger group to entertain, my father got experimental in the kitchen, crafting a heavily marinated vodka jelly that was famously strong. We slept soundly that night. This became our tradition 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 wave of fond remembrance. Instead, I found myself missing everything that made a summer Christmas unique. Sipping sangria 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 hot-Christmas convert. "The warmth eased the grief in monumental ways." This feeling was cemented 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 more surrounded by family under the gentle heat of the summer sun helped ease the grief in monumental ways. A Self-Proclaimed Hypocrite All this said, I must confess 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 warmest jacket, 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 Australian summer 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 craved. Not even the fluffiest snow can hold a candle to that feeling.