Sexist and Sexualized Labels and Brands
Many wineries feed off sexualized female stereotypes and produce labels that are meant to create sales through shock value. A few bottles that immediately come to mind are "B*tch" (with the pink label and "B*tch" written in big black letters), and "Menage-A-Trois" (a blend of three grapes with a saucy name). This kind of marketing is even more rampant in the beer world. I have yet to meet a sommelier who takes these wines seriously-- they are obvious in their classless appeal for sales through shock value alone. When what is inside the bottle is highly uninteresting, a label screaming for attention will push more cases. Most of us see through these marketing ploys and would never promote such a wine, and yet, the same sommelier might turn around and write a similar-premised tasting note. If cheap sexualized marketing is not OK for wineries to do, why do we accept it blindly in tasting notes?
Many wineries feed off sexualized female stereotypes and produce labels that are meant to create sales through shock value. A few bottles that immediately come to mind are "B*tch" (with the pink label and "B*tch" written in big black letters), and "Menage-A-Trois" (a blend of three grapes with a saucy name). This kind of marketing is even more rampant in the beer world. I have yet to meet a sommelier who takes these wines seriously-- they are obvious in their classless appeal for sales through shock value alone. When what is inside the bottle is highly uninteresting, a label screaming for attention will push more cases. Most of us see through these marketing ploys and would never promote such a wine, and yet, the same sommelier might turn around and write a similar-premised tasting note. If cheap sexualized marketing is not OK for wineries to do, why do we accept it blindly in tasting notes?
Wine Descriptor Vocabulary
Allow me to explain: I bristle when someone describes a wine as "masculine" or "feminine." What does that even mean, anyway? If any wine could be masculine or feminine, that would be one thing. But it's always lighter-style, delicate wines that are "feminine" and high-alcohol tannin monsters that are "masculine." It puts wine on a scale of weak/delicate to strong/bold, and then sexualizes that scale by insinuating that women are weak and delicate and that men are strong and bold. Describing wine as "masculine" or "feminine" buttresses this sexist misconception. My grandmother, for instance, is bolder and more powerful than Hulk Holgan; there are multiple meanings to the word "strength." But if you are someone who wants to look at "strength" in a purely physical way, pick ten random guys off the street-- I'm sure I could beat several of them at arm wrestling.
Allow me to explain: I bristle when someone describes a wine as "masculine" or "feminine." What does that even mean, anyway? If any wine could be masculine or feminine, that would be one thing. But it's always lighter-style, delicate wines that are "feminine" and high-alcohol tannin monsters that are "masculine." It puts wine on a scale of weak/delicate to strong/bold, and then sexualizes that scale by insinuating that women are weak and delicate and that men are strong and bold. Describing wine as "masculine" or "feminine" buttresses this sexist misconception. My grandmother, for instance, is bolder and more powerful than Hulk Holgan; there are multiple meanings to the word "strength." But if you are someone who wants to look at "strength" in a purely physical way, pick ten random guys off the street-- I'm sure I could beat several of them at arm wrestling.
Beaujolais is objectified by Bandol and Port. I think it's equally disturbing when someone describes a wine as sexually anthropomorphic, like when people discuss wine as being "slutty," "a voluptuous woman in a red dress," or "an unapproachable spinster." There is a line of appropriateness, and most people cross this line without even thinking about it or considering it. It is inappropriate when a sommelier or wine critic is seriously trying to tell you that you should taste a "slutty" character in the wine. I remember reading one very serious tasting note in a prestigious wine publication (written by an industry leader whom I respect, paradoxically) which noted the wine was like a "demure woman revealing her ankles." These are the kind of tasting notes that I find gag-inducing. If wine inspires you to poetry, follow your muse and write a poem about it-- I'd love to read that poem. But please don't write a technical tasting note that tells me to taste a slut or a demure woman, or masculine-ness, or femininity. These are not useful descriptors and they do not tell me anything about the actual wine. All that they do is link the idea of wine with the idea of a cultural female stereotype-- it's a cheap way of getting your readers to identify with the wine.
Unfortunately, most of the female stereotypes referenced in wine tasting notes are dismissive toward women, and this pattern in our vocabulary should be broken. As long as this type of language is accepted, the world of wine will never be a place where men and women can work on an equal playing field.
Unfortunately, most of the female stereotypes referenced in wine tasting notes are dismissive toward women, and this pattern in our vocabulary should be broken. As long as this type of language is accepted, the world of wine will never be a place where men and women can work on an equal playing field.
Burgundy finds her body (due to the moon cycles, no doubt) at a disadvantage when it comes to Bordeaux.
A Line between Prose and Technical Writing
Sometimes, you'll experience an almost transportative experience when you drink wine, and I love reading about these experiences-- it's poetic. Wine is linked to human experience, and when wine writers put this into perspective for you, it is often fantastic. But there is a difference between descriptive prose/reflexive context and writing a technical tasting note about how a wine reminds you of a sexy or unsexy woman. If the purpose of a published tasting note is to contextualize the flavors, what have we learned from soft-porn, wine-inspired fantasies? Nothing.
Sometimes, you'll experience an almost transportative experience when you drink wine, and I love reading about these experiences-- it's poetic. Wine is linked to human experience, and when wine writers put this into perspective for you, it is often fantastic. But there is a difference between descriptive prose/reflexive context and writing a technical tasting note about how a wine reminds you of a sexy or unsexy woman. If the purpose of a published tasting note is to contextualize the flavors, what have we learned from soft-porn, wine-inspired fantasies? Nothing.
Queen Barbaresco feels lonely in the company of the bourgeoisie. Furthermore, when a tasting note involves a sexualized woman metaphor, the note insinuates that the entire reading audience would relate to that note and also find a woman sexy. Essentially, a note like this shuts out half of the audience. Consider the reverse situation: Would anyone find it strange or unusual or offensive if I were to write a tasting note about a wine that went something like this, "The wine was so masculine and reminded me of a glistening body-builder flexing his abs," or some-such nonsense. Could you imagine the looks I would get? I don't assume that my entire reading audience finds men attractive, and so I refrain from using sexualized male metaphors in an attempt to relate to my audience. It's not OK for me to write a tasting note that portrays the wine as a male sex object, so why is portraying wine as a female sex object a common and accepted practice?
The nuances of Old Cali Cab are often overlooked...
I find it puzzling that so many women buy into this type of language to describe wine. And for a while I was one of them-- I actually used words like these for years until I found myself teaching a class on Piedmonte wines. I lectured about Barolo and Barbaresco, using the classic king/queen metaphor that everyone uses (Barolo is the "king," Barbaresco is the "queen")-- I didn't even think about it, it was so engrained; it's just what you always talk about when you are teaching people about Barolo & Barbaresco. But someone in the class challenged me and said "Why does a stronger wine have to be considered masculine?" I had no answer. It got me thinking about my own use of language, and I had one of those moments when you realize you've been drinking the Kool-aid and you didn't even know it. It's such a part of our discipline-- we don't even think about it. I hear female sommeliers constantly use words like "voluptuous" to describe wine, or we'll joke about how sexy the "legs" are, but if we really stopped to think for a minute about the language we are using, I think most women would be surprised and perhaps appalled at how they have just blindly used these words and phrases that have been needlessly kicking around this industry for so long. I think most men would also pause to at least consider the value of what wine-related tidbit they are about to say.
We should expand our vocabulary. Try using words like "structure," "power," "delicacy," and "nuance;" all of which can be used to describe both males and females. Purchase a thesaurus, or use the one that is probably already on your computer. Challenge yourself to see if you can go at least one week without using a gender-specific term to describe wine. Once I made myself consciously start to do this, I found that I got much better at speaking about wine. Instead of falling back on meaningless words like "masculine," I forced myself to become fluent in a whole new world of descriptive language.
If you look at the structure of a professional tasting note as recommended by the Court of Masters or the WSET, there is no place in the note where you must indicate if the wine tastes male or female to you. This is because wine is not male or female, and when we sexualize it as such, I believe that this confuses the drinker even more.
We should expand our vocabulary. Try using words like "structure," "power," "delicacy," and "nuance;" all of which can be used to describe both males and females. Purchase a thesaurus, or use the one that is probably already on your computer. Challenge yourself to see if you can go at least one week without using a gender-specific term to describe wine. Once I made myself consciously start to do this, I found that I got much better at speaking about wine. Instead of falling back on meaningless words like "masculine," I forced myself to become fluent in a whole new world of descriptive language.
If you look at the structure of a professional tasting note as recommended by the Court of Masters or the WSET, there is no place in the note where you must indicate if the wine tastes male or female to you. This is because wine is not male or female, and when we sexualize it as such, I believe that this confuses the drinker even more.
Asexual bottles await branding by wine writers.
I think this is something that, as a group of professionals, we should start to work on. I have a pretty thick skin and have seen a lot in my day, and this use of language is not the worst sexist thing I can think of that has happened to me or a fellow colleague in the wine business. I'm also not a perfect person, and see my life as a sommelier as a journey on which I'll regularly make mistakes, and learn from them. I've made these mistakes myself. I'm not going to run around policing everyone who uses the words "masculine" or "feminine" or "slut" to describe wines.... But I will secretly think that your tasting note is as classy as the people who sell wine by putting a pink label on a bottle with "B*tch" scrawled across it in swirling, swooshing (notice, I didn't say "feminine") calligraphy.
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