Glass is half-empty for the OECD ‘fun police’
IHAD intended to discuss the report on female binge drinking earlier than now but, truth be told, I was on a bender. Well, that depends on what qualifies as a bender I suppose, given that the OECD describes binge drinking as having six drinks at least in a single session, a quantity which in my book means you’re only really getting started.
If by ‘bender’ you mean a 12-hour odyssey of pubs and clubs, shouting nonsense at one another in spirited bouts of spontaneity, communicativeness and solidarity, justified by the flimsy excuse of the annual journalism awards, then count me in.
Also included is the following-day horror story of vicious hangovers, of halfremembered snatches of conversations accompanied by the heart-stopping fear of having offended somebody for no reason at all, or insulted your best mate.
And day three when you come to terms with losing your wallet/spectacles/coat after scouring the hall, stairs and landing for your personal belongings. Ringing the venue or venues. Cancelling the cards. You’ve also renounced drink for the rest of your life. Ha Ha Ha.
Surveys of women’s and indeed men’s drinking habits have their place. They are snapshots of changing lifestyles, which can have a role in creating health policy or pricing policy for the alcoholic drinks market.
The OECD report, which compared alcohol consumption across 33 countries, found that English and Danish women shared the honour of being the top drunks in Europe.
Irishwomen were in fifth place after Luxembourg, Germany and America, while the Spanish and Italians know their limits and personify sobriety itself.
But surveys like these come with a large health warning. Self-reporting about the number of drinks one has had, or of ‘heavy episodic drinking’ in a month, is littered with problems – as is treating drinkers as a monolith when the truth is, we all drink differently.
The OECD blames the rise of the relatively new phenomenon of ‘wine o’clock’ in the UK for that country’s world-beating record in female binge drinking.
Personally, I have never observed wine o’clock, which I think is shorthand for opening a bottle of wine once the kids are on the home straight towards bed.
THAT’S not my idea of a stress-buster. I really have very little interest in booze. I prefer red wine to white but not because of the tannins or acidity but because half a glass of white makes me deranged. I let others order the wine in the restaurants because in truth I’m as happy with water. I have zero interest in meeting people for a beer or a civilised G&T – a cup of coffee will do. Since the pandemic, I almost never drink alcohol at home. But while I am indifferent to the merits of Malbec over the finest Château Margaux, I can’t say the same about the blissful highs and nerve-wracking lows of inebriation. I can go weeks and months without a drink and not miss it very much. But I will never pledge to never again let off steam over a gallon of ethanol among like-minded souls and get legless on a massive bender.
It has pitfalls, sure, as the fun police in the OECD will have us know. As we get older, our tolerance changes, our constitutions are not built for such heavy bouts of selfinflicted poisoning, we are damaging our livers, our hearts and our bank balances. Nor is drunkenness a great look for a middle-aged woman.
But if drinking more than six gin and tonics in one session makes me a binge drinker, then so be it. I embrace my human frailty, my damaged liver and the moments in life when the glass seems half-full.