Some Like It Hot: Why Cold Christmases Are a Feeble Imitation to a Sunny Season's Celebration.

If we have learned anything from the influx of holiday movies, ubiquitous decorations, and festively themed songs, it's that the popular narrative has determined Christmas is a holiday best served cold. Is that so?

The bigwigs residing above 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 superior. This season is stressful enough – irrespective of temperature – but at least we don't have to battle seasonal depression on top of it all.

A Chilly Childhood

And this isn't just hot air. 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 early nightfall and a biting chill on my cheeks. The sole silver lining? The fashion choices; layering is effortlessly chic.

In fairness, a cold Christmas has its charms. It's traditional, classic, and the possibility of snow is undeniably enchanting. The snug appeal of a frosty gathering is hard to disregard. Yet, with my extended family on the other side of the world, 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 proper festive family affair, joined by more family 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 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 heeded the opportunity of a new job and moved to a notoriously chilly part of northern England.

A Revelation in Reverse

Visiting them for Christmas after a long absence, I anticipated a surge 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.

"That summer heat 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 profoundly difficult, his absence felt everywhere. Yet, being once more surrounded by family under the soft warmth of the summer sun alleviated the grief in monumental ways.

A Self-Proclaimed Hypocrite

All this said, I must confess to being a massive hypocrite. This year, I'll be celebrating during winter in South Korea, and I'm genuinely excited to explore Seoul in my fluffiest coat, hoping for a snowfall. The cold Christmas propaganda still has a little hold on me!

Nevertheless, 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 craved. Not even the deepest powder can hold a candle to that feeling.