Why only your white wine should be dry this January!

T’S been an unusual 12 months for our drinking habits. Unsurprising, given the nightmare we’ve been living through. One in four people increased their alcohol consumption last year, with alcohol sales rising by 20 per cent during lockdown. Meanwhile, hospital admissions relating to alcohol abuse rose by almost 50 per cent from 2019, seeing cases of liver disease reach an all-time high.

“Lockdown liver” is yet another catchy term to add to our Covid phrase books, right next to “support bubble”, “Zoom fatigue” and “doom scrolling”.

We now find ourselves in January, faced once again with the barrage of tips and tricks to detox, reset and cleanse. But this year the very idea of Dry January – and its fellow New Year vows of abstinence – feels harder than ever to stomach.

That’s because giving up alcohol is not the answer to our drinking problems, and it never has been.

Dry January was named by Alcohol Concern in 2013 to encourage Brits to reduce their harmful drinking. Of course, many people had chosen to take a month off before Alcohol Concern decided to wave the banner for a detox. And, for some, a month of abstinence could be appealing.

But in times as tough as these, four and a bit weeks of sobriety pave the way for yet more bingeing when this sorry month is up.

ODAY is Blue Monday and, sorry folks, it is set to be the bluest we’ve seen for a long time. The third monday of January has never been the jolliest: December leaves us stripped of cash and festive cheer. The days are getting longer, but nights feel darker. Seasonal Affective Disorder takes hold for many people, but, for others, we’re simply skint, cold and grumpy.

Those of us left standing have done incredibly well to weather the storms of 2020, but I fear that, coupled with all the grief and anxiety of Covid, this January may be too much for some to cope with.

It’s with this in mind I say that, yes, while alcohol abuse is dangerous in itself, and alcohol can be a very real conduit to mental health issues, I worry that trying to give it up completely will do more harm than good. For those who are predisposed to bingeing, it sets us up for deprivation, failure, or both. For those who aren’t, it is an unnecessary challenge at a time when we are already being pushed to our limits. Given everything we’re going through, Dry January feels like a bit of an insult.

Shouldn’t 2021 be the time we finally abandon absolutist thinking? If last year taught us anything, wasn’t it the value of balance and the harm caused by extremes?

We learnt to take things more slowly: a little less time commuting, a little more time outdoors or with our loved ones. In a post-2020 world, we should be striving for balance in all the aspects of life, trying to see the world as a patchwork of grey areas, rather than in black and white. The same should go for what we eat and drink.

The mantra “everything in moderation” is hackneyed for a reason. It shouldn’t go out of the window just because it’s the first month of the year. Looking after our bodies is far more easily done when there are a few beers to look forward to on a Friday, or wine to enjoy on a particularly dark evening. Waitrose has already reported growth in booze sales this month. Whoever is responsible: good for them. We should be encouraging the odd drink. To shame it would be to encourage the all-or-nothing behaviour that leads to bingeing and abuse. Drinking little and often, and having the odd day without in between glasses, is markedly better for health than irregular, heavy drinking. But it is also far better for our mental wellbeing. That is especially true in a month like this: it’s those little highlights of our day that are keeping many of us going through this lockdown.

We should adopt the same approach to all aspects of our diet. Take Veganuary. A record 500,000 people have signed up to the 31-day challenge this year. It’s admirable: we know that rethinking our meat consumption has to happen if our grandchildren are to enjoy our planet as we have.

The irony is that an instant switch to veganism often sees meat swapped for highly processed replacements, and leaves the meat industry high and dry.

Treat meat as it should be – a luxury to be enjoyed a couple of times a week, and one that is sourced responsibly – and we arrive at a far more sustainable lifestyle.

We could see a world where farmers are paid more to produce less meat but at a higher quality, and where meat plays as important a role as ever in our diet, supplemented by the wide variety of other protein-rich foods that are available to us.

I hope to see attitudes like these, that look out for ourselves, our neighbours and our planet in equal measure, more and more often as we march towards the new normal.

The surge in community spirit that we’ve seen in the past year has been one of the very few gifts that Covid has bequeathed us. We’ve renewed our bonds with

RAISE A GLASS: ‘Giving up alcohol is not the answer to drink problems’

local businesses, and become acutely aware of their struggles. I hope, then, to see a continued trend of buying local. Just like we should continue supporting farmers to produce fair meat, we should make a concerted effort to support our other British industries.

I must make a special mention of our English and Welsh wine industries. A few years ago, we would have scoffed at homegrown wines. But it’s 2021 now, and anything is possible.

ALES of English and Welsh wines have almost doubled in recent times, and experts predict the growing industry could create 30,000-plus jobs too. As the owner of my own English drinks brand – Jukes Cordialities – I’ll be proudly watching as UK wine brands become increasingly regular guests at our dinner tables... alongside my range naturally!

The message of all this – going soft on Dry January andVeganuary, being a little more thoughtful about what we consume and where we buy things from – is simple.

Let’s be flexible in our thinking, drinking and eating. Let’s be kind to each other and be kind to ourselves. Importantly, let’s be kind to our bodies.

We’re now painfully aware that they’re the only ones we’ve got.

‘Four and a bit weeks of sobreity pave the way for yet more bingeing when this sorry month is up’