Despite what they tell us as children about judging books by their covers, I’m here to let you know that what’s on the outside does count.

I’m sure this applies to many aspects of life. What I’m talking about now, of course, is a bottle of wine.

I’ve spent a great deal of time mulling this over - as both a wine consumer and a wine professional it’s a subject that’s close to my heart (and my wallet). As I’m learning about wine and its place in our modern lives I’ve also been observing marketing tendencies, buying patterns, and a growing interest in wine among those of my generation.  Thanks in large part to my childhood friend Noah Brier my thoughts have consistently been given new fodder - the blog he’s written since 2004 not only tracks marketing and design trends, but also launches them. His most recent online endeavor, brand tags, gives consumers a forum to share their associations with the logos we’re all familiar with, as well as offering marketers (at least those savvy enough to look) a chance to see how their brand is perceived. It’s gotten me thinking a lot about branding in the scope of my own professional world.

The marketing of wine is no simple matter - taste is a subjective experience, and nobody wants to be told what to like. Moreover, you’re selling the image of something that won’t be truly revealed until it’s been brought home and opened. You can’t try it on, and even when you think you know a wine, it is constantly evolving in the bottle and may never taste quite the same again.

So I ask you, brand managers and graphic designers, for two things - one to please the profiteer in me and the other to sooth my inner geek.

First of all, just make it look good.

This is fundamental; while nobody wants to admit to shopping by label, with all that’s out there something has to grab your attention. Even though an educated wine consumer may have a good idea of what grapes and styles are coming from where, it’s impossible to know every producer. It’s always fun to try something new, and I for one am not ashamed to say that when I’m sitting on the fence a fetching presentation will certainly push me one way or the other. As will an ugly one.

I’m sorry, but this whole “it’s what’s on the inside that counts” doesn’t quite cut it. Before deciding whether you like a wine enough to buy more,  you have to have a reason to want to open the damn thing the first time around.

There are lots of theories on how to get the bottle off the shelf and into somebody’s hand; recent marketing surveys say that animals and celebrities help. (Interestingly, it’s been documented that animal labels appeal especially to women. I’ve always wondered about the psychological explanation for that one.) But does that mean you should turn your wine store into a menagerie? Or a wax museum for dead movie stars? Some Marilyn Merlot, anybody?

In all honesty, though, it does work up to a point, and all’s well and good as long as you don’t completely lose sight of grace and simplicity.  An even more important question to ask is, in the midst of all that cacophony, isn’t subtlety refreshing?

To present some contrast by using an example that is close to home, here is a shot of the label for some of the wines made by Pulenta Estate, one of my favorite wineries here in Mendoza.

Now, to me, this label truly stands out. It is simultaneously elegant and eye-catching; although it won’t drown out the personalities of its neighboring bottles you can’t help but notice it. I find the lack of pretension alluring, and consistent - this is the label that accompanies the middle of three “tiers” of wine produced by Pulenta Estate. It is true to the aesthetic feel of their other wines, as well as to the style of the wine in the bottle.

Which leads right to my second “request”: give me a label that tells me something. Provide me with a hint about what to expect from the vino, something to help me climb down off the fence.

Let the label match the wine, and the graphic designer take some cues from the winemaker.

To use the same example: this Pulenta Estate Merlot is a modern wine, ripe and extracted. It is also elegant and balanced, and well structured. Like the label, it is restrained; it is pleasant, and memorable, yet doesn’t hit you over the head with weight and color.

You may wonder what the hell I’m talking about, or assume that it takes a palate with a certain level of sophistication to interpret the “style” of the wine. But for both connoisseurs and those who only beginning to explore the world of wine,  it is important that the bottle give some indication of what you’ll find inside the glass. Not all wines are the same, nor are all wine drinkers; in any case a label can help you figure out just what it is that you’re looking for. The “style” is the overall sensory impression that a wine gives, and it should be consistent from your first glimpse to that last sip.

To many who have come to appreciate wine with big presentation, the labels from historic wine producing regions with traditional packaging, such as Burgundy, Bordeaux, Chianti, and Barolo, seem staid, boring, too simple. In reality, though, even the understated labels tell you something; most places using these old-school labels are also producing traditional wine. They’ve been around long enough that they’ve got nothing to prove - not to mention the strict labeling laws in many parts of the old world.

Even if you have no idea what either of these wines are “supposed to” taste like, you may assume looking at the bottle that whatever it is that you’re going to find inside has a long history behind it. With wines like these it’s entirely possible that the label has looked the same for decades or more - the wine inside may still be made with the same philosophy and grapes from the same vineyards. As it just so happens, stylistically the wine behind each of these potentially bland labels is relatively light in color, impressive on the palate but full of infinite nuance. In a quiet voice, the label is telling us this.

Marilyn, above, exemplifies the other end of the spectrum. Vigorous wines from fresh soils that have the liberty (and necessity) of creating an identity for themselves,  they can choose how they want to call your attention. To judge by that label, you might assume this to be a flashy, colorful wine, impressively full bodied, possibly very well made, but a wine where concentration and depth of color are probably more important to the winemaker than elegance.

Clearly I have my own preferences, and my own associations, but in this case the impression I got from the label wouldn’t be so far off. The packaging did its job well; a good design should both play on our existing associations and help us create new ones.

To the consumer, I hope this is some food for thought. When you’re browsing the shelves, let the labels help guide you towards what you like - if nothing else they may help you narrow down your options. Maybe that dull label has an ancient story, and the one with the cute koala on it is pleasant in your mouth but too fleeting. Then again, it could be that the one is too dry for you and the other just what you’re looking for.

In any case, don’t ever be embarrassed to buy something just because you like the way it looks. You may end up liking the way it tastes, too - there’s only one way to find out.

July 14th, 2008 | vino