There’s no need to tell the Queen to cut out booze – she’s already more disciplined than the rest of us

Apparently, the Queen has been advised to cut out the booze. I say “advised” because I don’t think anyone can “tell” the Queen to do anything. She’s the Queen, so doing what she wants is surely one of the perks of the job?

In any case, the Queen is obviously not a boozer. Can you imagine if she was? Just picture all those clumsily sliced ears during knighting ceremonies and the drunken heckling at the Royal Variety Show. Imagine how often she’d nod off during all those tedious ceremonies she’s been attending for almost 70 years.

For most of us, being the Queen for a couple of weeks would be enough to encourage anyone to overindulge. After all, there’s always a butler on hand. Surely a butler’s job is to bring you a tipple whenever you fancy, complete with a little dish of salty nibbles? I bet they’ve got snack cupboards piled to the rafters in Buckingham Palace, stuffed with all the posh stuff, plus cheesy footballs.

The Queen’s sister and mother were both famous for enjoying the booze. In fact, according to Difford’s Guide for Discerning Drinkers, back in the 1930s, the Queen Mother was the patron of The Windsor Wets’ Club, a toffs’ drinking society with the motto “aqua vitae, non aqua pura”, meaning “spirits not water”. There is also an apocryphal story about the wind blowing the lid off Her Majesty’s hat box, only to reveal a bottle of gin.

Princess Margaret was a whiskey rather than gin girl. She was renowned for having just the one glass, but the one glass was always kept generously topped up, while the ashtray that accompanied her wherever she went was piled high with fag butts. She gave up both towards the end of her life, but by then her lifestyle had taken its toll on her health and her sensible older sister has outlived her now by almost 20 years.

The Queen has more discipline than the rest of the country put together. Over the years, she has managed to attend countless state banquets, charity dinners and ceremonial galas without ever letting herself down or needing to stop the car on the way home to throw up by the side of the road.

Not many of us can say that we’ve never embarrassed ourselves at a posh do, where the wine flows freely and you’re not paying the bill. Just think of all those society weddings the Queen has attended over the decades. Not once has she ever been photographed looking worse for wear, with her hat on back to front or letting rip on the dance floor.

The Queen is the mistress of sobriety in public, but for all we know, there may have been occasions in the past when she has come home from some interminable royal engagement, kicked off her shoes and laid into the port. But I don’t think so. Being the Queen is not a job you can do hungover. She’s not allowed to pull a sicky, spending the day after the night before slumped in front of the telly, eating pizza in her nightie because she overdid the Dubonnet.

In fact, as Difford’s Guide reveals, when the Queen once asked her mother for more wine at lunch, the Queen Mother replied: “Is that wise, my dear? You know you have to reign all afternoon.”

The advice for the Queen to cut out alcohol comes from physicians who are keen to keep her in tip top condition during the countdown to next year’s platinum jubilee. I wonder what other health advice she has been given? Maybe they’ve suggested daily aqua aerobics in the palace pool, or some armchair pilates?

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The Queen is 95, and the fact that she’s still mobile and doing the job is a miracle. I remember when my own mother, who was 90 at the time, was advised by her GP to cut out alcohol and how crestfallen she’d looked. After all, she barely drank a glass a day. It was just something she enjoyed when she felt like it, but there was something about the doctor’s tone that made her feel guilty.

Most of us cut down on the booze as we get older. The fact is that alcohol starts to hurt in middle age. It causes accidents and confusion, and a night on the tiles takes about three days to get over.

I’ve become a complete lightweight. I had one glass of wine the other night after a stand-up show and as I left the theatre I attempted to get into a complete stranger’s car. It was only when I looked at the driver and realised she was a woman in her fifties, and therefore not my tour manager, that I realised my mistake. Maybe it’s time I joined the Queen on the wagon?