You know how it is ladies. Sometimes you just wanna put on your sexiest dress, don your best novelty-sized shoulder flower or tiny askew top hat, and head to the hippest new bar with your girlfriends to make penis puns and sing off-key, inside joke songs very loudly. We’ve all been there. But if you’re like me, you know that Appletini is going straight to your thighs! So instead, you decide to stay home alone drink low calorie wine coolers, watch The Notebook, and cry softly to yourself until you fall asleep in a melted pool of uneaten Chunky Monkey. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s… (quiet sobbing).
Ivana B. Skinny is a line of wine-based, cocktail flavored beverages marketed to the tacky, health conscious, female alcoholic. Each 5-ounce serving contains 100 calories and each variety has a 10% alcohol content. The line consists of three flavors: Appletini, Margarita, and Cosmopolitan. Well done, reducing all of womankind to romantic comedy clichés.
Each drink comes in a gaudy, Trump-esque gold tumbler. Nothing screams sexy and thin like a short, squat bottle. It is possibly the ugliest packaging design and worst product name I have ever encountered.
This product makes absolutely no sense to me. Who is so devoted to their favorite cocktail that they need to buy a knockoff version of it to drink at home? And if you are that person, are you bothering to count calories, or do your withdrawal shakes prevent you from reading the nutritional label easily?
Marketing gimmickry aside, these are just diet wine coolers. The miracle of packing so few calories into each serving is just sucralose. The same miracle compound in every diet drink everywhere. And with that, the ever present, lingering sucralose aftertaste.
Now I have never had an Appletini or a Cosmopolitan, what with being a male and all, so I can’t speak as to the fidelity of the flavors here. The Appletini variety tastes like green apple Jolly Ranchers. It doesn’t pack the sour punch that a Pucker would, but its overall sweetness does a good job of covering up the alcohol burn. It is hardly detectable.
The Cosmo packs more of a punch. It tastes like alcohol, and comes with a slight, shudder-inducing tartness. I don’t think there are cranberry Jolly Ranchers, but I imagine this taste would be pretty close.
Ivana B. Skinny’s laughable website is packed with starved-looking young models, but I think their real demographic is a little different. I picture a woman in her late fifties or early sixties. She’s thin, tanned, of average height, and has clearly had her hair colored, possibly as recently as that morning. She’s wearing white pants. She’s wearing a shirt that is probably an animal print and definitely has some shiny gold fabric weaved throughout. It plunges just a little too low. She’s wearing many gold bangle bracelets on each wrist. Around her neck is one of those long gold chain necklaces with giant circles every 12 inches or so. It hangs down to her navel. Also, from her shoulder dangles some oversized, gaudy handbag. She’s sporting backless, open-toed shoes, proudly displaying her boney, vein-riddled, old lady feet for all of the soon-to-be-nauseated world to see. She’s my middle school librarian, or every third woman that age in the state of Florida. And the rings! Oh, the rings!
If you vana be skinny, how about a little exercise? Or perhaps 8 fewer Cosmos? Or maybe just have a cheat night and drink all you want? You deserve it. Just be sure it doesn’t turn into that kind of cheat night! Am I right ladies?!