Label Love
Nothing says ‘drink me’ like a puppy or pony
I’m no oenephile. Don’t get me wrong, I like wine, but its niceties are lost on me, perhaps because in my college years my idea of “good wine” was strawberry Boones Farm, preferably after it had sat in the freezer long enough to give it a certain Slurpee-like texture. I’m still that chick who, when asked what I’d like to drink at an elegant restaurant, responds, “Give me your cheap red.” Continue reading