She probably thinks that tramp juice is a status symbol. Its gold says special on it and costs 30p more than the regular. Her thought process was probably something like this -
"I was reaching for a Peroni — because I have standards — and my elbow caught the shelf. The can that fell into my basket was green and gold and looked, honestly, looked European. Continental. The sort of thing a woman named Dominique might drink on a terrace in Monaco before her second yacht party.
I want to be absolutely clear about something: I am not unemployed. I am between opportunities. There's a difference, and that difference is mostly that I've been between them for fourteen years and have started referring to my JobCentre advisor by his first name. His name is Derek, and he does not appreciate being called "Dezza."
I now buy special brews in four-packs and arrange them in my fridge like they're something I'd offer to a guest. I have not had a guest in some time but the arrangement matters. The aesthetic. I read somewhere that rich people care about presentation, so I put one can on a little wooden chopping board — a charcuterie-adjacent situation — with some Ritz crackers and a bit of cathedral cheddar I bought on reduced because it was Thursday."
Ha ha! Well alcohol consumption has to be controlled, Dave! Like a lot of people I liked it just a little bit too much so had to stop altogether.
And yes in my heyday I had a big drink problem, I couldn't get enough of it!!!

Oh well, the old one's are always the best!