I’ve always been very vocal and open about how much I love a drink. A self-confessed party girl. Coming from a family of Scousers with a touch of Irish, the answer to everything was and has always been – ‘Av’ a bevvy.’ So, you know, it’s in my blood and all that.
So it’s no surprise that during this lockdown period I’ve very much enjoyed my nightly cold glass of something (cough cough) to get me through. According to Instagram right now we are a nation divided into two camps you’re either a baker or you’re a boozer. So what’s it to be? Betty Crocker’s Cookies or Quaratinis?
If, like me you opt for the latter, I think you’ll find that all these long evenings mean you’ve really put the time in to your new skill and you’re excelling quite brilliantly in your drinking. If this was The Great British Piss Up, you’d be Star Boozer.
I’ve said goodbye to warm G&Ts and flat 60p tonic left over from my Christmas party, and welcomed top-of-the-range peach-coloured gins from Waitrose and a handful of frozen blackberries (at least I think they are blackberries, they were rolling around in my freezer).
To cheer ourselves in these times of social-distancing we have become a community of armchair bartenders. The cocktail is (finally) no longer a guilty pleasure. I need a salty rim, and I’m not even talking dirty, for once. But my martini certainly is. I’m not sure how we’ll ever return to necking cheap white wine in our local pubs, and waking up with our eyes looking like cat’s bum holes. We are producing the finest, icy cold, beautifully balanced beverages. and boy oh boy we are absolutely NOT judging if you are cracking on with your first one at 4pm.
We’re taking our time, we aren't waking up with anxiety or regret about how much we have drunk or where we have been.
Where I was once in awe of the highly skilled crafting on The Great British Bake Off. I’m now forensically studying the great Stanley Tucci on his Instagram, confidently making his perfect Negroni in his perfect kitchen with his surprisingly hench arms. I have nodded in appreciation of Meryl Streep, clutching onto her dry martini with a twist as though it were an Oscar.
My kitchen has become my cocktail-making station. A workshop covered with top-of-the-range kit that I bought online on day one of lockdown when I was meant to be buying paint by numbers. I have funnels, beakers, Bunsen burners. OK none of those last three things. But still. I have weighed out the measures of liquor as if I were making the daintiest macaroons for high tea. Equal parts vodka, vermouth, ice. I have taken batches of cosmopolitan mix round to my neighbour's house to leave on the doorstep. Again, complete lie but not a bad idea.
Hangovers seem lighter. Admittedly maybe that’s because I'm waking up guilt-free from any kind of drunken behaviour, what could possibly go wrong between the sofa and the stairs.
But maybe there’s something to be said for the fact that we are drinking with such care: we’re taking our time, we aren't waking up with anxiety or regret about how much we have drunk or where we have been; this never-ending groundhog day sometimes offers a weird sense of safety and security if you are lucky enough to be home.
And kid yourself all you like, we know full well we will drink in the evening once the initial 9am thought of ‘Ok I'm going to really try to not have a drink tonight’ subsides. (Side note: Stick to the spirits for now. Spirits lift your spirit. Wine just makes you whine.)
It might seem our concerns of whether we are perhaps drinking too much have gone out the window, for now. My mother’s phone calls to me on a Sunday morning asking if I'm going to be hungover for Sunday lunch have disappeared, my sister’s anxiety about me having a drink in my hand in most of my Instagram uploads has softened, and the mock workout videos using wine bottles instead of weights I sent to my dad have been applauded.
So perhaps I should enjoy this element of lockdown. It probably won’t be long before we all go back to ‘not drinking in the week’, the makeshift booze laboratory has to be packed away, my short-lived career as a mixologist might be over and the Instagram posts are back to biscuits.
So until then, I shall stay safe, keep calm…and ‘av a bevvy.
READ MORE:
Is There A Way To Drink Responsibly During The Coronavirus Crisis?
Seven Women On How Their Relationship With Alcohol Has Changed In Lockdown
Gizzi Erskine Is, Like So Many Of Us, Cooking Comfort Food In Lockdown