Damp January
At the beginning of every year in recent history people have been posting about Dry January. It’s a pretty simple concept: no alcohol for the month. It started in 2006 and became a really big deal in the UK in 2013. Estimates are that 1 in 5 people participate in Dry January. It’s the start of a new year. A time to reflect and reset. For many, Dry January is an opportunity to reassess their relationship with alcohol.
“It’s a kind of self-diagnosis of how important alcohol really is to you.”
If it’s hard to go a few days or a week without a drink it’s an opportunity to ask why that is and decide what needs to change. The benefits are many. You will have more energy, and clarity. You will sleep better and possibly lose weight. You will not have hangovers. Your skin will glow. You will not drunk text. You will strengthen your immune system. All great things and nothing to sneeze at (that’s a really gross phrase in a COVID world). But as a researcher I do want to point out that there are a lot of other factors at play in January. It’s also usually when people try to focus on eating healthy, going to the gym, and just generally being a better version of themselves. This is often short lived; it lasts for about a month. Just like Dry January. See what I’m getting at? It’s hard to isolate not drinking as the one thing that drives all of these benefits. If Dry January works for you and helps you feel better I am thrilled. I am very much in favor of people doing whatever they want with their bodies (do you boo boo), but let’s consider two things I see as connected to Dry January. First, diet culture. This plague on society is (finally) being acknowledged for its toxicity. It “oppresses people who don't match up with its supposed picture of 'health’” and has caused so much damage. The majority of the impacts of diet culture are felt by women, femmes, trans folks, people in larger bodies, people of color, and people with disabilities according to dietician Christy Harrison a proponent of intuitive eating. I understand that Dry January is eliminating something that is thought to be all bad but I also understand that restriction isn’t necessarily the best answer. Second, Dry January creates pressure on people at a time when that is the last thing they need. We all just survived the holidays, often the most stressful time of the year for people. We are still in the midst of a global pandemic and the news is constant tragedy. If having a glass of wine is a thing someone is doing as a way to relax* they shouldn’t have to feel guilty** about it because it’s Dry January. So, if you are going to do Dry January could you, perhaps, make less of a thing about it? There seems to be an almost incessant need to let everyone know that you are doing Dry January. This might be a way for people to create their own accountability; if they tell people they are doing this they will be more likely to stick to it. To me it feels like a combination of people who are in training for a marathon and Lent.
How do you know if someone runs marathons?
Don’t worry, they’ll freakin’ tell you!
Hey-oooo!
Running a marathon is a big thing. I get it. I will never, ever run a marathon because it sounds like absolute misery. But the joke hits. Never in the history of running marathons have people not told everyone they know they are running a marathon.
If you aren’t familiar with Lent, it is 40 days when Christians around the world (particularly those that are Anglican, Catholic, and Orthodox) prepare for Easter. They are supposed to pray and fast but as a kid who went to Catholic school the big deal was giving up something for Lent. The idea is that we were supposed to sacrifice something and show self-discipline as a way to represent Jesus’ sacrifice but what really happened was that most kids gave up something that was not that big of a deal. And do you know how you knew they gave it up? Because they would tell you at every opportunity. Below are interactions I remember from 8th grade:
Oh you’re having chocolate? Not me. I gave it up for lent (#sopious). I have not idea what joke you are referencing from Saturday Live. I didn’t watch it this week. I gave it up for Lent, I’m very holy. Oh my goodness! Is that a french fry? No thank you. I am currently sacrificing.
Considering all of this, I have decided to participate in what I am calling: Damp January. I am drinking less (no more holiday break Thursday morning mimosas or third glass of wine because I don’t have to wake up to get Leo ready for school) but I am not holding myself to not drinking at all. Know why? Because I don’t want to. Sometimes the first sip of my expertly crafted absolutely filthy vodka martini is truly a balm for the soul and I am not willing to give that up. I also want to point out that a lot of the rise of Dry January is coming from a business push. The non-alcoholic industry is blowing up and making boat loads of cash. There is absolutely nothing wrong with profiting from encouraging healthy habits but know that many of the same companies promoting non-alcoholic drinks for Dry January will be waiting for it to end so that you buy their alcoholic drinks.
At the end of the day my goal is for this to be a helpful place. If you want to give Dry January a whirl here are some curated options and the best places in San Diego for non-alcoholic drinks. If you want to do a Damp January but feel bad here are some benefits of alcohol and red wine. If you want to fight diet culture there are a lot of things you can do. If you want my filthy martini recipe here it is:
Splash of dry vermouth.
Equal parts vodka (not from Russia) and this olive brine (trust extensive research was conducted).
Shake vigorously for at least 30 seconds (more if you want to count it as an arm workout). This creates teeny, tiny ice chips in the final drink.
Strain into a chilled glass. This used to be my favorite glass but I broke it because I am not fancy enough to have nice things. We now use these because they are unbreakable.
Garnish with bleu cheese stuffed olives (preferable not from a can) and several of any kind of these Serpis olives (not Goya). You can skewer the olives on these cocktail picks that I am looking for an excuse to buy or just use normal ones (try not to use the disposable ones-that’s just wasteful). If you don’t have cocktail picks or are just feeling extra classy, by all means drop the olives in there and fish them out with your fingers. The vodka will kill the germs. #science
Do what works for your and cheers to whatever kind of January you are doing!
*I’m setting aside the discussion that “needing” a glass of wine to relax could signal a problem. I am focusing on an individual wanting to have a glass not needing to drink to excess to feel ok.
**Some people may read that and wonder why anyone would ever feel guilty about having a glass of wine when others aren’t. These people were most likely not raised in the Catholic Church.