Stop your sobbing

I've been meaning to finish this entry for some time.  You may recall a certain emotional week for the ladies shortly before Christmas - "the missing week" - during which an astonishing amount of the ladies' favourite was consumed with particular gusto.  At the end of who knows which of these nights this lady stumbled home scribbling an angered, teary blog post on the back of an expired pack of Camel Lights.

 

Photograph by Sam Perry & Jennifer Smit

As seen on the cover of the excellent 125 Magazine - Issue 6

So why does gin have such a reputation for making our womenfolk cry?  And why, I hear you scream, are you revisiting such nonsense?  Let me explain.

To answer the first question, this myth could be some way explained by gin's popularity amongst the female poor of 18th century London.  'Gin' here, however, describes the bathtub variety produced from the cheapest possible grain and diluted with sugar, fruit, old boots, anything to disguise the abhorrent taste.  As for its female-heavy demographic, well, gin was available to purchase on the street and in corner shops.  Beer, then virtuous by comparison, was confined to ale houses which were of course male-only territories.  Gin thus became associated with good old-fashioned female desperation, not that we know of such things...

Of course, being well-versed in Lady's Eye-water's fabled teary history, this lady isn't one to be fooled by such twaddle.  I know perfectly well, as do my cohorts (here comes the science, brace yourselves) that all types of alcohol are depressants; drugs which slow activity in the brain (we rarely feel such effects thanks to our incalculable intellect / Big Giant Brains) by increasing the production of gamma-amino butyric acid, an amino acid that eventually promotes sleep in the central nervous system.

Why am I revisiting such nonsense?  Well.  It was a normal sort of evening; a private view followed by a delightful dinner with the Ladies of the Lane, where we spoke of important matters such as gin and dresses.  All very lovely as I'm sure you can imagine.  So it was with much surprise that, come 2am this lady found herself storming out of her gentleman friend's abode in tears.  How embarrassing!  How uncouth!  Dear reader, white wine should never precede gin.  Nor should such vast quantities of the aforementioned combination follow a particularly upsetting week.

In any case, our official party line is this: Stick with the science - never, ever drink white wine.