November, Novembre | The sex appeal of winemakers
My thoughts on a very important topic.
This realisation, this stirring in the pit of my stomach, happened quite by accident, just days after I left England for the warmer climes of Australia. Until that point, my life in wine had been sequestered to corporate offices in Acton, steak lunches in mahogany-hued city restaurants and tastings in large, listless venues. The men that surrounded me were all too often fat and entitled, bearing gilets and signet rings, or worst still, brown three piece suits made of suspiciously flammable materials. From my vantage point, wine - and the men in it - were many things, but dripping in sex appeal? Definitely not.
Despite what some of you may think, my decision to abscond to Australia was grounded in noble intention; I genuinely wanted to learn and hone my craft. Admittedly, looking back at the photos and my heavily curated “harvest look” of Blundstones, hotpants and shoulder-bearing T-shirts, there is a chance that I had some underlying ulterior motives. My mind is conveniently hazy now.. I can neither confirm nor deny.
Whatever deviant thoughts I may (or may not) have harboured, I was in for a rude awakening. The days were long and loud, busy, dirty, demanding and wet. I was drenched most of the day - sometimes from water fights I started.. Whoops! - and I was in receipt of a constant rotation of demands: clean this, move this, lift this. You get the picture. But it was this rigorous, firm hand that led me which roused something in me and perhaps acted as the catalyst for my deeply held belief that winemakers are undeniably sexy.
The corporate world of wine paled in comparison to this raw, vibrant landscape where men wiped their sweat-dripped brows with the ragged edges of their shirts, operated machinery and not only knew wine but made wine.
Six weeks of twelve hour days went by in the blur of crushed grapes, thighs sticky with grape juice, cleaning tanks, dirty clothes, pumping wine, ice cold Cooper’s, ciggies, blinds, short shorts, and that giddy sense of tiredness that only comes from physical exertion. I think I was in awe of the confidence, the knowledge and the decisive nature that it takes to make wine. I still am in awe. Zayn Malik’s Pillowtalk played endlessly on the radio, its lyrics of pain and pleasure seamlessly weaving into the fabric of the harvest, somehow adding another layer of intrigue to my daily chores.
In Australia, the sex appeal of the winemaker is visceral - clear cut and vigorous. It is reminiscent of that 90s Diet Coke ad that has remained indelibly imprinted on my mind since childhood; strong, tanned, decisive men making things, working with the land, enjoying good food and wine. Seeing gnarly, grape stained hands properly holding the stem of a wineglass? Sexy, very sexy. Knows how to care for a plant, operate machinery and drinks Burgundy? You’ve got it. Sex on legs.
But as this ode testifies, memories of that time remain vivid. Eventually, Europe - and some visa issues - eventually called me back home. And with this homecoming came a different understanding of the winemaker’s allure. Back on the continent, it was something more nuanced, more poetic even. It wasn’t wrapped in sunshine and perspiration. It wasn’t bronzed and muscular, it was more layered, more raw, and at times, perplexing.
I am a believer that sex appeal isn’t housed in looks but in charm and confidence, in knowledge and empathy. Indeed, probably if I was to point out the winemakers I felt had the most raw elements of sex appeal, you would be confused. But it is when they’re in their element, in their space, sharing their wines and their stories that their magnetism comes alive. To see them in the raw light of day, out of this context, does not do them justice.
Take my adopted home of France, where cellars are often subterranean, dark, and damp. These spaces - perfect for aging wine - have an edge of mystery. Descending into these ancient caves, where the thick air clings and the light is dim, feels both uncertain and intimate. The winemaker draws you into their lair, ready to share the fruits of their labor.
There is an undeniable vulnerability to this whole experience, as they lay bare their work for you to taste and ultimately judge. Huddled together in the dimness, you watch as they gently draw wine from the barrel’s belly into your glass. You are left to smell and taste, to look and think and feel, and then, in many cases, finish by spitting on the earthen floor. There is talk of love, nature, heritage, desire and fear. It can be so intimate and unguarded. Add a French accent, and it is no surprise that clandestine moments can come to pass in the depths of these cellars.
Needless to say, making wine, whether you are a man or a woman, is very damn sexy and I salute you wholeheartedly.
A disclaimer, though: to all of the people that I have done harvest with or joined in cellars, I promise I wasn’t [always] staring at your bronzed thighs or lingering on your gnarly, grape-stained hands, lusting over your ability to make wine and emotively express yourself. But these fleeting moments and thoughts have offered me a new way to feel connected to what I do, far removed from the corporate wine life I once knew. I am very appreciative that my working life gets peppered with a little bit of sex appeal here and there. It has undoubtedly kept me coming back for more and will do for years to come.
I fully recognise that not all winemakers are men. Some are women, some are non-binary, and all are undoubtedly more skilled at winemaking than I am at writing disclaimers. That said, this piece is unapologetically filtered through my very straight, female gaze. Any mentions of "him" or "he" should be read with a wink and a glass of wine. Santé!
PODCAST INTERVIEW WITH LAWRENCE FRANCIS OF INTERPRETING WINE
This month, I had the pleasure to sit down with Lawrence for his new Mosaic of Wine series to discuss my career in wine - from asexual suits and fine dining restaurants, to skills stacking and learning to pivot in the industry, and finding a way to be vulnerable and forge your own path.
Thank you to Lawrence for being such a great interviewer and for cajoling some sense out of me. The interview drops at 9am on Wednesday 4th December!
I was hanging onto every word here 🔥