Cold Duck used to look like this:

So tacky. So refreshing.

Now, on this last Friday of my Twenties, my husband showed up with New, Grown-Up Cold Duck. It's in a sleek new bottle, with form-fitting gold foil instead of the gaudy purple, and instead of describing itself as a "sparkling, sweet red" it's now an official Champagne with "notes of blackberry and cherry" (if these are "notes" they are crescendo on a bass drum.) I feel like the Official Drink of my Twenties is trying to grow up with me. I love you, Cold Duck. Always have, always will.