When I first came to Washington, I had this friend, I’ll call her E., who would periodically suggest that we go out and “get drunk.” I liked E. a lot (still do, but in the way of D.C., she moved), but I always thought this idea was kind of dumb. One, I don’t drink to “get drunk.” Two, I don’t get drunk — I’m either pleasantly buzzed or I’m asleep. And three, E.’s drink of choice? A chocolate martini. That’s like getting drunk on Quik.
Anyhow, I thought of E. when I read this Washington Post cocktail column, which argues that gender stereotypes have persisted at the bar, preserving the notion of “girlie” and “manly” drinks. In it, Jason Wilson suggests that the rise of the hard-drinking, hard-pouring female mixologist may upend those cliches.
On one hand, I’m all girl-power about that. ‘Cause I really don’t appreciate it when the bartender assumes I’d like an apple martini. But there’s part of me that has mixed feelings. Just as I felt like I lost a bit of my individuality when D.C. women en masse ditched the pantsuit for a smart dress, I worry, will I stop standing out if every other female drinker goes straight for the hard stuff, too?