In defence of Diet Coke.

Some people have mentors. I have Diet Coke.

She got me through high school and uni exams, break-ups, 3pm office slumps, book deadlines, and now the chaos of motherhood. She's lived everywhere with me: locker, glovebox, tote bag, pram caddy.

I survived the aspartame panic of the 2000s, the kale smoothie cult of the 2010s, and the rise of kombucha in mason jars. Still, I'm a Diet Coke girlie through and through. If green juice raised Miranda Kerr, Diet Coke raised me.

And now, apparently, she's… a fridge cigarette. A fridge cigarette.

I'm sorry. EXCUSE ME?

The phrase started on TikTok a couple of months ago, when creator @reallyrachelreno posted a video sipping a can in the park, captioned: "Overheard someone call Diet Coke a fridge cigarette and nothing's been more true to me since." It went viral, obviously.

Watch: Here's why we are SO addicted to Diet Coke. Post continues below.

I know it's supposed to be ironic. But cigarettes kill you. Diet Coke makes you smash out 47 emails before dinner. One is a lung disease. The other is an emotional support can. Let's not confuse the two.

So, in defence of my fizzy muse, here's my totally justified, millennial rant on why Diet Coke is absolutely not a fridge cigarette:

1. She's a feminist icon.

She launched in 1982 and never pretended to be "healthy". She was chic. Karl Lagerfeld lived on 10 a day. Kate Moss was her Creative Director. While wellness culture tells women to optimise every morsel; Diet Coke says: nah. She's the anti-smoothie: zero nutrition, zero virtue, zero shame. Gloriously artificial and completely pointless, and that's exactly the point.

2. She's affordable self-care.

Two bucks for instant serotonin. Try finding a Pilates class, therapy session or $90 Goop powder that delivers the same dopamine hit. She's grab-and-go joy: snatched from the servo, plucked from the office fridge, or summoned from a vending machine at 3:17pm when life feels impossible. No membership required. 

3. She's ritual, not addiction.

Some people light candles. Some people journal. I crack a can. The fizz is Pavlovian to me. My brain hears it and goes: get to work, bitch. This isn't vice. It's ritual. (Also, Diet Coke has about 46mg of caffeine, a third of a coffee. If she's addictive, so is your oat milk latte, Maddie.)

4. She's loyal to a fault.

Since 1982, she's been waiting in the same fridge aisle like the clingiest, most reliable friend. She doesn't disappear when TikTok discovers a new superfood. She doesn't get supply chain issues like sriracha. She's just… there. Always. 

5. She's the ultimate girls' girl.

Cigs exile you to the smoking area. Diet Coke creates solidarity. That subtle nod across a meeting table when two women clock each other holding silver cans? Sisterhood. She's in offices, carparks, uni libraries, group chats. Diet Coke is the unofficial sponsor of female friendship. 

6. She's a multitasking queen.

Try smoking while changing a nappy. Exactly. But you can sip Diet Coke while answering emails, folding tiny socks, and pretending to listen to your partner's work drama simultaneously. Kid-safe. Asthma-friendly. Spill-proof if you're talented. The only life hack I'll ever believe in.

7. She's culturally bulletproof.

Cigarettes went from glamorous to Quit posters in public toilets. Diet Coke only got more iconic. She's been parodied on SNL, worshipped by every It girl since the '80s, and survived four decades of wellness fads trying (and failing) to cancel her. She's not a drink. She's an artefact.

8. She's literally my creative fuel. 

Hemingway had whiskey. Agatha Christie had apples in the bath (iconic). Murakami has marathons. I have Diet Coke. I'm an author and every book I've ever written, including my latest romcom Love Overdue (out now, in all good bookstores, pls buy), was powered by her fizz. She's inspiration in a can.

So no, Gen Z. Diet Coke is not a fridge cigarette. She's the caffeinated feminist relic that kept your mums alive long enough to raise you. Show some respect.

And I will defend her to my (probably aspartame-induced) death.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do and a DC to smash.

Listen: In this episode, we welcome you to the Cancelled courtroom, Donald John Trump edition. Donald is no stranger to a real courtroom but today is all about his petty crimes like drinking 12 diet cokes a day.

Ali Berg is a Melbourne writer who runs on words and Diet Coke. She's the co-author of four romcoms with her best friend Michelle Kalus, including Love Overdue (out now), and the co-founder of the book-sharing initiative Books on the Rail. Follow her @aliandmichelle and @booksontherail.

Feature Image: Mamamia.