I don’t like this any more than you do, but maybe it’s time to call time on prosecco

RIP Fizz 2016-2017

“You drink so much prosecco”, some fool said to me recently. “It’s a bit Clapham.” “What?” “You know, like, a bit basic.”

At the time I was obviously appalled. Everyone drinks prosecco. Prosecco is the ultimate drink. But it’s true. We drank so much prosecco in 2016 (and 2015…) that somewhere along the way it got a bit much. It moved past the perfect mid-point of classy and ironic and just became a bit overdone and – though I’m loathe to say it – yes, a bit basic.

We drank so much prosecco we had to develop low calorie versions. We drank so much prosecco the prices went up. We drank so much prosecco that we put a massive strain on the Italian vineyards where it’s produced. One of my friends literally drank so much prosecco that she developed an allergic reaction to prosecco.

At the height of the madness Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson (that still sounds weird) put Anglo-Italian relations in jeopardy with a Fizz-based insult, and our insatiable thirst for the good stuff meant supermarkets started panicking about a shortage and stocking up on Cava instead. In the last year alone our Prosecco blood lust sent sales up 34 per cent – the equivalent of £354 million more spent on it.

Prosecco was featured in – rough estimate but I’m sure it’s accurate if you check – 80 per cent of our tagged photos in the past year. 25+ bottomless brunch Prosecco places will have popped up in your neighbourhood. We posed with it in cringe Snapchats. It slithered into embarrassing “we said yes!” engagement photoshoots and became the favourite of “wine o’clock!” Facebook gals and “live, laugh, love, drink!” style memes. And OK, in itself, there’s nothing wrong with any of that. But as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end.

Think of our love affair with Prosecco as a short but intense relationship with someone you have nothing in common with but post a lot about on Instagram. It’s fun, of course, but as time wears on you start to look at it through a more critical lens, less rosé tinted glasses. You start to realise that maybe just maybe you’ve gone too far here. Maybe you’ve overdosed on the good stuff. How will you truly enjoy it if it’s all you have? If it’s all anyone ever has?

I’m not saying we should go back to strawpedoing VKs, drinking Jager Bombs unironically or falling down the deep, dark hole that is our growing obsession with gin and tonics. We can still enjoy Prosecco, a little bit, few and far between, maybe. But you can have too much of a good thing, and in 2017, let’s be honest, that good thing is fizz.