Okay, hi. Refreshing mocktails have legitimately become my personality lately and I’m not even mad about it.
I’m sitting here in my extremely mediocre apartment in suburban Ohio, it’s November, the heat’s already cranked to 74 because I’m cold-blooded, and I just made the most ridiculous ginger-lime situation that tastes like vacation even though the closest I’ve been to a beach is the Great Lakes in 2019 when I got a sunburn so bad I cried in a Meijer parking lot. Anyway.
Why I’m Obsessed with Refreshing Mocktails Right Now (Spoiler: I’m Boring Sober)
Look, I didn’t plan on becoming the mocktail girl. I used to be fun, or whatever version of fun you are at 27 when Fireball still feels like a good idea. Then one day I woke up at 31, hungover in a Target parking lot because I’d apparently decided 2 a.m. chicken nuggets were a personality trait, and I was like… nah. We’re done.
But I still want to feel fancy, you know? I want the cute glass, the tiny umbrella, the Instagram moment without the next-day regret and the texts I have to apologize for. Enter refreshing mocktails. They’re basically adult juice boxes that make me feel like I have my life together for exactly 12 minutes.
My Current Top 10 Refreshing Mocktails (Tested on Actual Humans)
1. The “I Swear I’m Fine” Spicy Pineapple Ginger Beer Thing Refreshing Mocktails
Literally just pineapple juice, lime, a ton of ginger beer, and a jalapeño slice I let sit in there because I’m extra. First time I made it for my mom she took one sip and went “this is… aggressive” and I took that as a compliment.
2. Cucumber Mint Situation That Makes Me Feel Expensive Refreshing Mocktails
Muddle cucumber, mint, lime, splash of elderflower tonic. Tastes like spa water if the spa was run by someone who says “vibes” unironically (me).
3. Blood Orange Rosemary Mocktail (Because I’m Basically Ina Garten Now)
Except Ina probably doesn’t burn the rosemary simple syrup and cry about it. I did. Twice. Still drank it.
…and yeah I’m not listing all 10 right now because honestly I got distracted thinking about how I once tried to make a lavender syrup and it tasted like potpourri and my friend Sarah straight-up spat it into the sink and we’re still not over it.
The One Where I Tried to Be Aesthetic and Failed Spectacularly
Last 4th of July I decided I was gonna be that host. You know the one. Mason jars, paper straws, the whole Pinterest nightmare. Spent $47 at Whole Foods on edible flowers and weird fruit I’d never heard of. Made these gorgeous blueberry basil refreshing mocktails that looked straight out of a magazine.
Then my cousin’s toddler yeeted one off the deck and it exploded like a crime scene. Blue splatter everywhere. Everyone started calling them “smurf murder juice” and that was the end of my influencer era.
Tools I Actually Use (Because I’m Broke) Refreshing Mocktails
- A $12 muddler from Amazon that I use as a weapon when the fruit fights back
- This janky metal straw set I got free with something?? Still going strong in 2025
- My blender that sounds like a dying lawnmower but whatever, it works
Final Thoughts From Your Messy Mocktail Aunt Refreshing Mocktails
Listen. These refreshing mocktails aren’t going to fix your life. They’re not going to make your ex text you back or make your boss stop scheduling 8 a.m. meetings. But for like 10 glorious minutes while you’re shaking some fancy juice in a jar with ice, pretending you’re on a beach somewhere instead of in sweatpants in Ohio… it’s honestly kind of perfect.
Try one. Try all of them. Burn the syrup, spill the ice, take the ugly photo. Post it anyway. Tag me if you want, I’ll hype you up because lord knows we all need it.
Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go make another one and pretend I’m emotionally stable.
Cheers (with sparkling water, obviously). 🥂
