Smugglers didn't celebrate many holidays. They celebrated other things - big hauls, getting away with stuff, surviving - but not holidays. Some smugglers were bitter, some just opportunities in a more vulnerable populace, and some had never had anyone to celebrate with.
Holidays were so subjective anyway. What did a solstice matter in space? Why would the Hutts care about an ancient Wookie victory?
So. No holidays for Han Solo.
Not until he joined the rebellion and the Standard New Year rolled around.
It had a definite smuggler feel to it. The defiant, cheerful celebration of continued survival and getting away with stuff was prominent.
This had less of an edge to it though, and there was Luke to tease, a princess to flirt with, and some food that for once wasn't half bad.
"You know, this ain't so bad, Chewie."
RAWR.
"Hey, I didn't say nothin' 'bout that! Food's good, that's all." He winced as a careless party goer bumped into Luke's left arm, the one that had been injured in the raid yesterday.
RAWR.
"Oh, shut up, you stupid furball," he grumbled.
RAWR.
"And a happy new year to you too. I can still leave, you hear?"