​Open Letter: Tepidity as the New Virtue

Open Letter: Tepidity as the New Virtue

“2025 is dead… Long live 2026”

Let’s start 2026 on the right foot, not the one still wobbling from last year’s excesses. Here’s my take on January, tomorrow and today alike. Consider it your cheat sheet for staying effortlessly “in” during the first days of this blazing new year.

In 2025, America rediscovered the Martini, not just as a cocktail, but as a lifestyle. Dry, Dirty, Gin, Vodka, or Espresso: it didn’t matter. Served in a triangular glass with the right eyebrow raise, and suddenly, you were culturally literate. The Martini is back, Hollywood-style: recycle the past, act like it never left. It’s minimalist, photogenic, endlessly customizable, and lets you drink hard while looking effortlessly chic. No excess just “purity.” No drunkenness only “precision.” Marketers love it. Instagram loves it even more. And yet, here’s the delicious paradox: while martinis scream sophistication, the trend is still about drinking less… but stronger. In a world obsessed with Dry January, mindful sobriety, and holistic wellness, nothing says “American irony” like sipping a 40-proof cocktail cold, silent, and devastatingly effective. Two olives, a lemon twist, and voilà, the illusion of control.

So yes, total abstinence in January? Fine. I’ll give you that. For many, Dry January 2026 isn’t a choice, it’s a survival tactic after a December filled with sugary cocktails, last-call shots, and hazy mornings. Stop cold. Body recovers. Sleep returns. Benefits are measurable. Health rhetoric fully justified. But for those who in 2025 treated Dry January like a religion indiscriminate, absolutist, joyless: Hello, the trend has shifted. Bye bye Martini, and ”Dry January is dead. Long live Damp January”. Not dry, not wet. Tepid, sensible, and honestly, kind of brilliant.

Damp January

Giving up industrial spirits in excess is one thing. Treating wine, the same way is lazy thinking. Wine isn’t about instant intoxication; it’s about meals, conversation, context, ritual. It’s cultural, social, even intellectual. Treating it like vodka shots? That’s force-feeding culture. Total abstinence? Symbolic amputation. Result: frustration. Sneaky workarounds. “Just one glass.” Please.

So, be smart.

2026 calls for smarter drinking: less often, more intentionally. One glass instead of two, a quality bottle of wine instead of a mediocre one. Replace excess with intention. Hangovers with mindful pleasure. Damp January is an elegant reconciliation of pleasure and conscience, no drama, no guilt trip. And it doesn’t boss you around. It whispers. It teases. You decide your “moral moisture.” Everyone wins, nobody loses, and nobody must stare themselves in the mirror. Finally, a movement where you can keep drinking, thoughtfully, and actually enjoy it. Bottles that matter, opened with purpose.

Happy 2026. May it bring joy, mental clarity, physical health, and social prosperity all nicely tempered.