S: I must confess, Captain, I know there to be something unwholesome about this unusual tradition of the wearing of Christmas jumpers.
K: Ah Mr Spock, what you fail to realise is that the wearing of Christmas jumpers has been sacred to the North American and Canadian holiday time traditions for many thousands of years. Even those of alternative spiritual persuasions, and of none, can appreciate the colourful Nordic purity of a Christmas jumper, or the simple fun of a basic snowman or a red nosed reindeer.
S: Still, Captain, I am, I must confess, uncomfortable dressed in this unusually casual and colourful manner, and my researches have yielded little in the way of reasons for this process and for the coded patterns behind the knitwear’s simple yet bold designs.
K: I can help you with that Spock. Simply remember that the woollen creations were made to express a primitive artistry amongst the womenfolk of farmers and fjord fishermen. They produced knitted motifs from what they saw around them – reindeer, fish, snow. There is nothing further to it… no code… nothing hidden. I believe the primitive peoples were enjoying the environment around them and were representing what they saw on their person.
S: But that is illogical Captain.
K: All art is devoid of logic, my dear friend. And that is why humanity enjoys it so wholeheartedly, and why Vulcan culture is devoid of it. You, being part human and part Vulcan must experience a form of constant artistic ambivalence.
S: That is not the case, Captain. I experience no human emotions and ambivalence is no exception. As there is no function to these clothing items other than the warming and covering of a physical form, any decorative element is anathema to me.
K: But surely, old friend, the Starfleet’s symbol is not perceived solely as a decorative element on your usual uniform?
S: No, Captain, it identifies us one from the other.
K: I would not be surprised if the same were to be true of historical background of the Norwegian and Swedish Christmas jumpers. Don’t you think: each being worn by a different tribe of people?
S: That may well be the case. But a simple symbol would be all that was required. Surely no more should be necessary than a colour, a stripe or a small symbol. This endless repetition is entirely unnecessary.
K: Then there we must agree to differ, old friend. Personally I enjoy the rustic materials and colours. I can appreciate how these garments have been knitted to add individuality to an otherwise simple and practical garment. They are satisfying to me and many others of my species.
S: That may well be the case, Captain, but I am not the only crew member raising objections to such items being compulsory uniform for all crew for the entire month of December.
K: Nevertheless as a crew member, you must comply with these new instructions.
S: I must, Captain.
K: And you must comply with all the other newly introduced Christmas traditions.
S: Is that so, Captain?
K: Oh yes, Mr Spock. That would include the dressing of the Christmas tree and the singing of the Christmas carols, and, most importantly, the kissing under the mistletoe.
S: I am aware of that tradition, Captain, and have no wish to participate in any of these activities.
K: I understand that, Mr Spock. But orders are orders, and look what I have here!
Kirk pulls out a sprig of mistletoe and gives Spock an unwillingly-received Christmas kiss as Spock stands, unmoving still and stiffly, waiting for it to end. His next task, as soon as Captain Kirk had excused him from this unpleasantness, was to resign his Starfleet commission. Kisses were all very well, but jumpers of such extreme gaudiness were a step far too far.