During the early days of my wine career, one particular afternoon stands out.
The Marketing team—of which I was the most junior member—gathered in a bland conference room in Napa for a blind tasting session. The goal? To see how our brand stacked up against the competition.
Bottle after bottle, we worked through several lineups of popular wines, each one wrapped in a brown paper bag to conceal the label. We scribbled down our notes, ranked our preferences, and debated our choices.
This was one of my very first jobs, and I was still finding my footing—not very educated on wine, hyper-aware of the expertise around me, and terrified of saying the wrong thing (let alone championing the wrong wine).
When the labels were revealed, I watched with trepidation, hoping that my picks didn’t betray my inexperience. To my surprise, one of the most senior executives in the room had selected Yellowtail as his top choice—over and over again.
The reaction was swift: laughter, teasing, more than a few knowing eye rolls. The unanimous snark implied that this seasoned wine professional should have know better—he should have been able to identify the sub <$10 Yellowtail, and he definitely shouldn’t have preferred it.
To his credit, rather than make excuses or appear bashful, he brushed them all off—just said, “I like what I like, and it can’t be wrong.”
I’ve never forgotten that moment, because it taught me two very clear lessons:
The wine industry leans toward snobbery. Yes, there are exceptions, but the broad perception remains: the world of wine has rules, a hierarchy, and an unspoken power dynamic that feels intimidating and impenetrable to many. There is a right and wrong, and you will be judged for not abiding by it.
Wine is an individual experience. At the same time, you don’t need to know or follow the rules in order to enjoy wine on your own terms. You like what you like—and you should own that. Wine is meant for enjoyment and each individual gets to define what they means to them.
It was a perfect example of the paradox at the heart of wine culture: the industry thrives on exclusivity, but enjoyment is deeply personal.
I think most people who drink wine can relate to this on some level.
Perhaps you’ve hesitated at a restaurant or wine shop, worried about picking the “wrong” bottle. Or held back your opinion when sharing a glass with friends, afraid you’ll be the odd one out. I’ve heard of several people who discreetly pour guests their drinks in the kitchen—just in case a screw cap or boxed wine* on the dining room table raises eyebrows.
*This doesn’t apply to Juliet, of course.
So Why Is This Top of Mind Right Now?
In case you missed it, a debate around the snobbish vibe in the world of wine is having what can only be described as a viral moment on social media.

Leading the charge is Gen Z author and creator Eli Rallo, who posted a video to her nearly 1 Million TikTok followers touting her preferred wine style—“crispy, crunchy whites”—and sharing her favorites: Vermentino, Gruner, Ischia Bianco.
“So f*cking refreshing”. Her excitement was palpable, her delivery charming.
The reaction? Mixed. While plenty of comments thanked her for the recos, she was also met with criticism—
For mispronouncing names (come on).
For recommending wines that weren’t “complex enough” (so what?).
For being uneducated about wine (she’s actually not).
She clapped back with a seven-minute monologue, calling out the wine world for fostering elitist, misogynistic, and homogenous tendencies, and for being designed to make people feel uneducated or ashamed.
As someone who lives and breathes wine daily, her words really struck a chord (as they did for thousands of others who engaged with the video).
Viral moments like these—set against the backdrop of endless headlines about wine’s declining appeal among younger consumers—should be a serious wake-up call for wine lovers and professionals alike.
While I’ve experienced my fair share of snobbery over the years, I’ve brushed it off. It’s one thing when an upstart female entrepreneur, with middling wine knowledge, gets looked down upon in a space dominated by men and traditions.
This is not that.
It is another thing entirely when consumers themselves feel unwelcome—when wine, a product meant to be joyful, social, and accessible to all instead becomes divisive and makes people feel like outsiders. The last thing the industry needs right now is conversations that foster negativity and turn people off.
And here’s the thing—I don’t think this is intentional, at least from the industry’s perspective. If you asked 100 wine professionals whether they want to welcome new consumers in, 101 would emphatically say yes.
Which begs the question—When did something as simple as enjoying a glass of wine start to feel so high-stakes? And what can we do about it?
So what exactly is it about the wine world that makes it feel so elitist and unattainable?
It’s not any one thing—if it were, it’d be easier to solve for. It’s a combination of many small factors, compounding over the years to create the air of exclusivity we are contending with today. A few main things stand out, both from my own experience and the conversations unfolding online.
Despite some progress, the wine world is still not very diverse. A big focus in the online narrative is around the wine world originally being set up to exclude women and minorities—Rallo specifically mentioned commenters that “police women” with their remarks and cited a few eyeopening stats, like the fact that only 15% of Master Sommeliers are women and there have been well-documented accounts of sexual misconduct in the industry. As a wine insider, I do see this changing. The question is—is it changing fast enough to keep up with changing consumer preferences?
The lack of diversity directly limits the products on shelves that speak to a wide range of consumers—especially younger, more diverse ones. This is big, and the issue extends beyond product innovation to the entire value chain: suppliers, distributors, and retailers alike must better reflect the consumer base to ensure inclusive products are created and championed—emphasis on the latter (too many promising products fail because the deck is so stacked against them). It’s no coincidence that at Juliet Wine, which targets Millennial and Gen Z women, the early industry support we received came largely from women. Amidst a parade of “No’s”, a handful of female decision makers in retail and distribution saw a product that resonated with them—and knew others would feel the same. (We’re forever grateful, by the way).
Elitist positioning has long shaped wine culture, making it hard to shake. Historically, how has wine been defined by pop culture? Think Sideways, Somm, Drops of God, or Bottle Shock (literally about the Judgment of Paris). All classics—yet each frames wine as high-stakes and complex. From Paul Giamatti threatening to storm out if someone orders Merlot, to two privileged heirs battling to identify rare wines by taste, the message has been clear: wine is something to be mastered and studied, not simply enjoyed.
The wine world and modern consumers aren’t just speaking different languages—they’re not even on the same channels. Case in point: this essay was inspired by viral social media videos that 99.9% of wine professionals probably didn’t even see (shoutout to Jess Druey of Whiny Baby though—my comrade in the comments 💪🏻). Clinging to traditional communication isn’t just ineffective; it reads as pretentious. If a brand wants to be approachable, then meet consumers where they are. Translation: if you're trying to reach 21-40 year-olds and you're not on at least one of these platforms daily—TikTok, YouTube, Substack, Snapchat, Discord, or Reddit—you're sending a clear message that they have to come to you. Just don’t be surprised if they won’t.
The pursuit of wine knowledge is endless. You could study it for a lifetime and still not know everything. The grapes, the regions, the history—it never stops. And that intimidates people. But what if we reframed this as: nobody, not even the experts, knows it all.
Discoverability is insanely expensive—almost unattainable for many. Seriously, when did a glass of wine in NYC start costing $25? Consumers are getting savvier about by-the-glass pricing, and they’re not into it. They see that they’re paying the price of a bottle for a single glass in restaurants and bars, and they know it’s not a great value. It’s discouraging them from trying wines on-premise and making it feel even more out of reach.
The lack of transparency in wine is unnecessary—and a major turnoff. When I was working with a winemaker on our first blend, he started rattling off fining agents, blending techniques, and essentially giving me a crash course in biochemistry. After fielding a barrage of questions from me, he jokingly said he was “lifting the veil” on the world of wine. Ok but … why is there a veil? Gone are the days when brands could afford to be vague about ingredients or nutrition facts. I understand there are historical, regulatory, and operational reasons for this—but it doesn’t work today.
There’s a perception that you have to follow a set of rules to properly enjoy wine—what to pair it with, what glass to use, even how to drink it. Case in point: I recently responded to another viral video where a creator was talking about being mocked by her friends for putting ice in her wine. Why should consumers follow arbitrary rules instead of simply enjoying wine however they want? What might have once been seen as a rite of passage is now backfiring—rather than inviting people in, it’s pushing them away.

How We Dismantle Wine Snobbery Once and For All.
One of my biggest pet peeves is when people present problems without also suggesting solutions. So while I don’t claim to have all the answers here, I’ll share some ideas on how things can change—I would love to hear what others think.
What Consumers Can Do —
Everyone that touches wine in any form—from consumers to professionals—has a role to play in shifting the vibes. It’s not lost on me that while wine insiders get a lot of flack for being exclusionary, the online debate in question was spurred by comments from other consumers. So I’ll start there.
Reclaim wine as a personal experience. Be confident in what you enjoy—don’t let your taste be dictated by experts or peers. And stop apologizing for your preferences. Like boxed wine? Sweet wine? Ice in your glass? Own it. The best way to dismantle wine snobbery is to drink what makes you happy—without hesitation or explanation.
Vote with your wallets—and your follows, likes, and shares. There are winemakers and brands who are trying to modernize the wine space against all odds (to say it’s an uphill battle is an understatement). Support the voices that challenge the status quo—women and minority-owned wineries, innovative formats, and diverse perspectives. If you don’t know who these are, I’ll send you a list. The industry pays attention to where consumers put their money and engagement. If you want to see change, it truly does start with you.
Reframe wine education as fun. Curiosity should always trump correctness, and wine education doesn’t have to feel like a chore or a test. If you are interested in learning more about wine, inclusive, approachable creators and narratives are there—seek them out (happy to share some recos!). And never, ever feel ashamed for asking questions or not knowing it all. Trust me, even the experts don’t.
What the industry can do—
When we launched Juliet, we broke a lot of rules.
We put great wine in a box—and made it chic. We upheld transparency, even when industry norms pushed back against something as simple as disclosing ingredients and nutrition facts. We crafted approachable, food-friendly styles that bucked the norms, especially for our reds.
And for our first two years in business, most of the industry gave us hell for it.
But every decision we made came from one simple question: What does our customer—the modern woman—want? It’s time for every stakeholder in wine—brands, buyers, distributors—to ask themselves the same thing.
Are your business decisions truly based on consumer demand? Or are they driven by bureaucracy, tradition, and sheer stubbornness? Because consumers are telling us exactly what they want. We just need to listen.
Evolve Your Portfolio. Aromatic white wines, lower-alcohol styles, sustainable and alternative packaging, even NA wines—these are all bright spots of growth in an otherwise flat category. If you aren’t at least thinking about how to shift your portfolio to reflect these changes, you are willfully ignoring what the average wine drinker wants—what message does that send?
Meet Consumers Where They Are. The days of ivory tower marketing are over. If you're a brand leader and you’re not engaging with real customers on the platforms they use daily, you’re not doing your job. Craft a positive, accessible narrative around wine, and let customer feedback shape and refine your strategies.
Give Innovation a Chance. Suppliers, distributors and retailers would be wise to stop clinging so tightly to tradition and embrace innovation with open arms (and I mean real innovation). Even if it's unproven. Even if you're the first. If you wait for the data to show a crystal clear picture of assured success before making a move, it’s going to be too late. Sometimes you’ve just got to read the tea leaves and take some risks. Not trying new things is a bigger risk.
A few final thoughts
There is no silver bullet that is going to change wine’s reputation overnight. And all of us—from those picking grapes in the vineyard to the women who just want to share a crispy, crunchy white with friends—have a role to play.
The power dynamic of wine only truly shifts when we collectively acknowledge that wine is meant to be about connection, joy, and exploration—not exclusivity.
If you follow me, you already know that I’m optimistic about wine. I believe in this industry wholeheartedly. I think it has a bright, bright future and will continue to be deeply entrenched in culture, food, love, friendship, and joy—tomorrow as it has been for thousands of years.
We just need to stop being such snobs about it. ✨
Heck yes! Keep singing it from the rooftops, Allison!