Dry January is great, but I’m shocked by how hard it is to give up booze – roll on February 1
THIS time last year, I was the one rolling my eyes at all those jumping on the Dry January bandwagon and giving up booze for the month.
It’s so unoriginal, right? And what could be more heart-sinkingly dull than someone declaring they aren’t drinking as you sit down to dinner?
But oh, what a difference a year makes.
This January I am the one asking for water instead of wine, turning down invitations and going to bed at 9pm (well, there’s nothing else to do).
Like everyone else I had an indulgent December consisting of free-flowing bubbles, lots of delicious cheese and eating far too much chocolate in front of the telly while wearing pyjamas.
I enjoyed every minute of it with no regrets (this time of year is what elasticated waists are for, after all) and I had absolutely no intention of doing Dry January.
But then my husband, Paul, threw down the gauntlet.
When a good friend declared her intention to stop drinking for the whole month, Paul casually mentioned he didn’t think I had it in me to do the same.
Well, I can’t resist a challenge, particularly one that comes from my beloved husband.
And as much as I’ve been fancying a G&T round about 6pm, I’ve been focusing instead on how much more I will enjoy the sweet taste of proving him wrong.
So here I am, living the cliche and doing Dry January. I know I’m only a week in, but what has shocked me is how much harder it is proving to be than I thought it would.
It turns out that almost everything I do is perfectly accompanied by wine. Sunday lunch with my family . . . celebrating a match victory . . . meeting a friend for a catch-up.
I am beginning to realise just how much I — along with the rest of the nation — expect everyday moments to be that little bit sweeter along with a nice glass of red, or some fizz.
And even though I class myself as a moderate drinker, now that I’ve stopped (anything to win that bet) I can’t stop thinking about it. All. The. Time!
The same thing happened to me years ago when I went on the Atkins diet.
I have not knowingly eaten fruit since 1979 but after a couple of days of eating all the bacon and eggs my heart could desire, the only thing I was craving was pears and apples.
Staying in to take my mind off drinking isn’t helping either. Every TV show I watch seems to feature booze.
So I sit salivating as someone downs a nice cold beer or a glass of sherry — and I don’t even drink beer or sherry. I even found myself fancying white wine yesterday (I hate it and I haven’t had any since I was 17).
After just seven days of abstinence I’m more aware than ever that drinking is a habit.
At times we all drink too much, and cutting it out completely for a bit is probably the best way to reframe your relationship with alcohol.
But since almost everything social in our culture seems to revolve around boozing, I have concluded that the only way this experiment is going to work is if I just don’t go out ANYWHERE in January.
So I’ve done the only sensible thing; I’ve cleared my diary and I’m not accepting any invitations. I’ve even postponed a long-overdue night out with a good friend who is also doing Dry January, until we can raise a glass or two together in February.
I must admit my skin is looking better. Is it my imagination or are my eyes a bit clearer? And I feel ever so smug when I wake up without a hangover. But other than that, I can’t see any upsides.
I don’t like wishing my life away but at the moment all I can think is, roll on February 1.
PS. It’s one thing giving up alcohol, but I draw the line at the January “clean diets”.
Did you know that “Veganuary” is actually a thing now? In my view, life is too short to live off kale smoothies, chia seeds and quinoa. And what the hell is ashwagandha anyway?
— OVER the past few days, I’ve found myself simultaneously worried about and full of admiration for the Queen who has been ill for ten days and, at the age of 90, is already back to work and carrying out her duties.
I’ve had a similarly horrible cold to her, and it’s really knocked me for six.
If the Queen felt even half as bad as I have, then my respect for her has increased tenfold.
Shopping in PJs is a bed idea
I’M all for chilling out, not dressing up and for women not feeling obliged to wear make-up.
But those ladies shopping in Tesco wearing their PJs were taking things a bit far, weren’t they?
Relaxing over the festive season is important, but when you can’t even be bothered to get dressed things have gone too far.
I mean, how hard is it to put on a pair of jeans and a sweater? After all, no one is to know whether you have your PJs on underneath!
Was this a revolutionary stance from women who wanted to make the point that they shouldn’t have to dress up all the time?
I don’t think so. It looks a bit more like laziness to me.
My nan, in her day, wouldn’t even have contemplated leaving the house without her hair, make-up and nails done, because . . . standards!
And while I might not take things that far, I think I’d prefer that extreme to this one.
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OF course, all the usual suspects have come out and accused Janet Jackson of being selfish for having a baby at 50.
What are the odds that these are the exact same people who branded Friends actress Jennifer Aniston (who is only a few years younger than Janet) selfish for NOT having a baby?
Annoyingly, though, it’s still the case that these age “rules” don’t apply to men who, if they father kids in their seventies, are considered virile.
Talk about damned if you do and damned if you don’t.
Well done for surviving 'divorce week'
IF you’re married, there’s a one in five chance that this was the week that you considered a marital split.
So if you have survived “divorce week” then well done for hanging on in there.
This is already the most depressing month of the year.
It’s really not the time to be making any sudden moves or decisions.
So why not pace yourself until, say, June, when the nights are longer, the sun is shining and the days are a bit more easy-breezy?
It might stop you from scratching the wrong itch.
Lowe blow for Daisy
DID you see the snaps of the lovely Daisy Lowe on the beach?
I couldn’t help but think that a newspaper picked deliberately unflattering shots of her to have a bit of a go.
Personally, I still thought she looked amazing.
Perhaps I’m extra sympathetic speaking as someone who has been photographed on a beach.
So I know first-hand that you can take a pic of a person at two different angles and make them look either terrific or dreadful.
Remember when Demi Moore stripped off on TV to prove she didn’t have cellulite after photos made it look like she did? I’d never take it that far, but it does annoy me how often women are made to feel bad for their alleged flaws.
Country star Tammy Wynette once sang: “Sometimes it’s hard to be a woman.”
She got it wrong – all the bloody time it’s hard to be a woman!
