How Do I Get Your Job?

I just spent the last few days in a large Midwestern market traveling throughout the state working with reps. I am lucky enough to work with, in my humble opinion, one of the best distributors in that region, and was paired each day with really fun, engaging and interesting reps that I absolutely LOVE working with (this past trip I worked with some of the funniest women I have ever met, and had to pinch myself at the end of the trip wondering how it was possible to laugh that much while at work).

As I have written about before, traveling can be expensive, so as a rep for a family-owned, independent winery, getting the most out of your trip is a MUST. This visit represents the epitome of “getting your money’s worth.” Each time I have visited this particular market, I have well-planned days visiting accounts that all have good potential to do business with my wines. Additionally, at the end of every day, I have great events at fantastic accounts where I get the opportunity to speak to a crowd of 30-50 people about why wines from the Pacific Northwest are so special.  Granted, my days are long: they usually start around 6 or 7 with emails and don’t finish up until about 10, but every day is packed with things that make my visit totally worthwhile.

I wrote last time about how, after a long week of travel, discussing my job with strangers can be draining. But in the context of a wine tasting, dinner or consumer event, I absolutely love it. Everyone is there because they have at least a passing interest in wine, and not only do I get to share my wine, but I get to learn about the lives from people all over the country (plus in the Midwest, people are usually incredibly friendly).

Of course, someone invariably asks, “How do I get a job like yours?” I always smile and laugh because the road to becoming a wine sales rep never is straight and narrow.

So how does one get a job doing sales “on the supplier side” (working for a winery)?

The Restaurant/Retail–>Distributor Sales–>Regional Sales–>National Sales Route

The most common path I have seen is this: most people start out working at a wine shop or waiting tables at a young age—in college or right out of it. They discover that wine sales increases their ticket and tip averages, so they begin to learn more about it. They then become consumed by the utterly engrossing and totally dynamic world of wine, and many times become the person who controls the wine list/wine buying at the restaurant or shop. They befriend many of their distributor sales reps, who help them find a distributor sales job. They usually rise to the top of the crop, and build very good relationships with winery personnel, which then leads to a regional (sometimes national) position with the winery.

The Tasting Room–>Direct Sales Manager–>Regional/National Sales Route

This is how I got my start in the wine business (I also worked as a waitress at a local wine bar, which is how I got my job in the tasting room in the first place).  I have met a few people who have worked in winery tasting rooms who wanted to grow within the organization. They start working at the winery tasting room, eventually grow into a management role at the retail level for the winery (oftentimes, small wineries will hire one person to manage both Direct-to-consumer sales and national sales). As the winery grows, the DTC and National sales role will split and the person who was handling both may choose the national route.

The Family Route

Some of my best friends in the wine business have parents who own wineries. They usually waited tables or worked in retail (either at the family winery tasting room, or at an unaffiliated retail shop—or both) before their parents allowed them to spread their wings and hit some smaller markets, and then finally transitioned them into a national sales position. This seems to actually be the hardest way to get a job selling wine because parents are often harder on their own kids than they would be on a non-family hire. I feel for my friends who have to deal with the wrath of mom and dad after a particularly bad month of sales…

The Career-Change Route

I have met a couple people who have been interested in wine their entire adult lives and know just as much (or more) than some people  who have been in the wine industry forever. Usually, they become more than just “regulars” at a very good wine shop in their area—they become almost a part of the team (some of them kind of remind me of the guys in High Fidelity that just keep showing up to the shop every day to work, even though they don’t get paid).  Through those connections at their local wine shop, they are able to get introductions to distributor or winery personnel and subsequently find employment through either channel.

So even though selling wine means long hours, never being able to turn off your phone or email (even on vacation), handling massive amounts of rejection and probably more work than you imagined, it’s the greatest job ever. I always tell all my family friends with kids about to graduate college that it’s the best career choice I ever made. The wine industry is vibrant, dynamic and it’s growing. So if you’ve been considering it, I highly recommend giving it a shot. At the very least you will learn a ton and meet lots of wonderful and interesting people along the way. 

How did you get your job in wine sales?

The Airplane Conversation: Discussing Wine Sales with Non-Industry People

A few days ago, I took my Macbook to the Apple store because I had gotten a gray screen that just wouldn’t boot any time I tried starting my computer. A peremptory Google search told me I should be scared—that it was the “gray screen of death.” Sure enough, the Google search proved true; I lost everything on my entire hard drive, including about 6 blog entries that I have been mulling over for the last few weeks. I guess this would be a good moment to tell you I deserve a big, fat, “I told you so,” and to warn you that you should always back up your files!

One of the reasons for my absence here is that I have been traveling a lot this spring and while I have been thinking about writing, I just haven’t had the energy to update.

With all the traveling, I have been engaging in quite a bit of the airplane seatmate banter.  Here is a transcript of the general conversation:

How much wine do you spit out? NOOOOO!

Flight attendant has come around and asked me to please turn off my kindle for the second time. I quickly turn it off, ashamed, and turn my face to the window. The guy next to me, a non-descript 40-something in a Brooks Brother’s button down and gray slacks leans over so he can look out my window at our ascent.

FELLOW PASSENGER: SO, HEADING HOME TO DALLAS, OR GOING FOR FUN?

ME: NOPE—JUST HEADING OUT FOR WORK. I silently hope he doesn’t want to keep talking—we only have a few more minutes to go before I can get back into my thoroughly engrossing book about the history of Cholera. Ok, don’t want to be rude. YOU?

FELLOW PASSENGER: I’M IN THE SAME BOAT—HEADING THROUGH DALLAS TO IOWA CITY FOR A CONFERENCE. INJECTION MOLDED PARTS FOR FARM EQUIPMENT. SHOULD BE REALLY INTERESTING!

ME: NICE! Inwardly shudder. My book beckons.

FELLOW PASSENGER: SO WHAT DO YOU DO?

ME, vaguely: SALES.

FELLOW PASSENGER: ME TOO! FARM EQUIPMENT. WELL, PARTS REALLY. HOW ABOUT YOU?

ME: OH, I JUST SELL (mumbles) WINE.

FELLOW PASSENGER: REALLY? COOL! SO DO YOU WORK FOR A VINEYARD IN NAPA?

ME: NOPE—THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST. (Please let that be it.)

FELLOW PASSENGER: YOU SELL TO COSTCO? I THOUGHT IT WAS TOO RAINY IN SEATTLE TO MAKE WINE?

We then have a side conversation about basic geography of the northwest, the difference between Oregon and Washington winemaking, and work out whether or not he is familiar with the wine I sell. He (depending on the type of guy he is) will either ask me if I have heard of Silver Oak, or drop in a line about how he and his wife visited a vineyard in Napa that is very exclusive, but that they were able to purchase three bottles of said wine and are still holding onto one of them, just waiting for the right moment to try it. Conversely, he may try to convince me of the quality and value in boxed wine, Two-Buck Chuck, or some other sub $4 wine. In extremely rare instances, he will not try to stump me or teach me anything, and will either know something about wine, or be very inquisitive in a friendly and humble way. This last instance almost never happens.

Now that we’ve established some basics, the conversation continues. We are well into our flight by this time and I sigh because my book is looking like a mirage in the distant future.

Can anyone here tell me–what does a winery sales rep REALLY do?

FELLOW PASSENGER: SO, DO YOU LIKE, GO AROUND TO RESTAURANTS AND GROCERY STORES ALL DAY DRINKING WINE? He looks at me to gauge whether or not I am a complete alcoholic and perhaps to check if I am, in fact, drunk at this moment (although it is 6 in the morning). IF I HAD YOUR JOB I WOULD BE DRUNK ALL THE TIME!

ME: WELL, (getting back on track) MY JOB IS SOMETHING LIKE THAT, ALTHOUGH IT’S A BIT MORE COMPLICATED. AND I USUALLY NEVER DRINK THE WINE I SELL—I JUST SPIT IT OUT AFTER TASTING—TO MAKE SURE IT’S GOOD.

I then get to hear about how he thinks it’s a waste to spit out wine (generally because he’s of the feeling that “all wine tastes good to him”), and then I have to explain why we have to be, essentially “professional wine wasters.” This usually does not go over well and he appears distressed and unsettled. Usually at this time, he becomes so agitated by the idea of me wasting wine that he can’t wrap his head around what I do for a living. I have spent years trying to figure out a one liner to explain what I do, but for the life of me I really can’t think of anything good. After this point, he becomes exasperated and can’t be bothered to spend much more time chatting with someone so wasteful, and I am allowed to go back to my book.

So what does a winery sales rep do, anyway? It really is hard to sum up. I suppose that is what makes the job so interesting. Every day is different, which is why I love it so much. It requires the ability to analyze and synthesize data, to communicate effectively and have the willingness and desire to be social and develop long-lasting business relationships. The job is so multifaceted it’s hard to even begin to describe it, but in a nutshell, this is my best stab so far: A winery sales rep is a kind of educational and sales ambassador. Their job is to manage distributors and accounts by providing comprehensive information about their wines, expectations for sales, and assist in meeting goals by visiting markets to see accounts (restaurants and retail alike) and be an extension of the winery whenever they are in the field working. How’s that for a vague answer?

What do you tell people when you meet them about your job?

Handling Rejection

This past weekend, I spent a food and wine-soaked few days living it up in San Francisco with one of my favorite girlfriends (who also happens to be a distributor sales rep).  I love traveling with people who are into food and wine because a) we usually get hooked up with hard-to-get reservations (job-brag: we had brunch reservations at Zuni, 8pm Friday night dinner reservations at State Bird, and 8pm Saturday dinner reservations at SPQR—not easy to come by for any of those, so thank you industry hookups!), b) we get to geek out about food, wine and our jobs with relative impunity (instead of the normal eyerolls and sighs we get from non-industry dining companions).

I think these were shots of Mezcal. Which always leads to inspiring conversation...

Besides having an amazing time (and meeting one of the coolest new friends I’ve made in a long time), I shared in some really great, thought provoking discussions about food, wine and issues industry people face, every day in the “trenches.” The one that resonated most with everyone (at dinner that night, our four-top included a somm, a former-somm-turned supplier rep, a top distributor rep, and me), is the constant amount of rejection we get selling wine.

I brought up two stories that were for me, some of the most awkward and uncomfortable in my time in the wine business.

Once, on a ride-with while I was working for an importer, I walked into an off-premise account with a rep. It was the first stop of the day and the account, I was informed, was one of the better accounts in the market for volume, so we would hopefully sell a ton of wine. We ponied up to the tasting bar, and I introduced myself and told him what company I worked for. The buyer looked at me like I’d just crapped in his cornflakes. He turned around immediately and yelled to the rep, “Get the F*CK out of my store.  I don’t need any more of that f*&%ing sh*t! GET OUT!” I was mortified. At the time, the wines I was selling were very highly regarded and usually people were quite happy to taste with me (not to mention the fact that we were in the south, and most buyers I had experienced up to that point in this particular market were courteous and respectful). I was completely shocked. I immediately high-tailed it for the door and waited out of sight in the parking lot,  (awkwardly by the rep’s locked car) for the rep to pack up the wine bag and come out. It later emerged that the buyer had mistaken my company for another importer, and he thought that he was being swindled by the other guys. He conflated the two and actually never bought more of either company’s wine.

The second-most awkward rejection I got was when I was riding with a sales rep who was horribly and woefully unprepared because, as it turns out, his boss had fed him completely incorrect information about inventory, pricing and availability (evidently all the particulars I had given him, including requests of what to show on the ride-with, had been totally ignored). After the first stop, I had to call the guy to inquire about all the mistakes and instead of an explanation, I got an earful. He told me he had “put up with enough of my bullsh*t,” and that he was done (for the record, both my boss at the time and I agreed that I had not, in fact, done anything wrong). I was baffled. ”Excuse me? I don’t get it. What does that even mean?” To which he responded, “I am firing you. I don’t want your brands anymore. Now get out of my market.” That left me shell-shocked enough to not even worry about how uncomfortable the 20-minute ride back to my hotel was.

These are a couple of extreme examples of the kind of rejection that happens every day in the wine business. So how do we deal with more normal, daily rejection? Many years ago, I briefly dated a big-distributor corporate wine-sales hack (look, it was a dark period in my life and I’m not really proud of it)—he totally drank their kool-aid, and used to endlessly talk about their multi-layered sales plan—essentially, it could have been titled “Avoiding sales rejection, or: how to force unwanted cases down an account’s throat.” That approach seemed abhorrent to me so below I outline the three basic tenets of the old-school distributor approach, and my response (which so far, besides the examples given above, seem to work pretty well for me).

 Old-school: Have your talking points lined up and deliver “the ultimate pitch!”

New-school: forget the pitch—start a conversation.

Old-school: ABC—always be closing (and oddly, the “big-distributor” guy also said that in reference to picking up women—he would smirk and laugh to himself every time he and his fratty friends would mention it. Welcome to Douchebagistan.)

New-school: Are you and the account a good fit, eg. Does your wine go with their food, their clientele’s tastes, their overall program? You want your wine to be a success at wherever you place it. You don’t want it to sit and eventually be closed out.

Old-school: Don’t take rejection personally; it’s a normal part of selling.

New-school: The only cause for rejection is the pressure to sell. Otherwise, it’s a conversation that can be continued at another time if a sale doesn’t happen right away. Whether it’s a distributor who isn’t ready to take on another brand, a restaurant who doesn’t have room for a new glasspour, or a retailer who doesn’t have the budget or shelfspace to place a new wine, at some point, their situations will change and you can pick up the conversation again at a later time and date.

Bottom line: Understanding your customer (and having a good relationship with them) ultimately leads to success in sales. In the odd chance that true rejection happens, it’s always great to have industry friends to talk with about it!

My Weirdest Ride-With. Ever.

I got a lot of positive feedback on my last post, and a few non-industry friends asked me to share their favorite story about a funny experience I had on a ride-with. The wine industry is full of tons of interesting, intelligent and wonderful people; I am lucky enough to call some of them my friends. The flipside is that it is also full of some really strange characters, and I had the (mis)fortune of working with one on what is (legendary among my friends), my weirdest ride-with of all time. Suffice it to say that I will never disclose who this was with, and I will never, ever write about anyone I work with presently (or even the fairly distant past). But this was many years ago, and I am not sure if this person is still even in the wine business. Without giving too much away, it was in a secondary market–there were one or two really big “A” accounts in this particular town, but I’d never been before because it was kind of a trek to get there. After a lot of pressuring from my distributor, and a desire on my part to establish a relationship with one big account in particular, I made the commitment to work with the rep who called on that particular area and booked my tickets.

When I landed, I had about 15 frantic text messages, voicemails and emails from the rep asking where I was. My flight was perfectly on time, and I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that the day was not going to turn out as well as I had hoped. Up until this point, we’d only communicated via email, and had arranged that he would pick me up at the airport and get me to the city with that big account (which was an hour or two away). I called him immediately and let him know that I was waiting outside. I explained what I looked like and what I was wearing (this is one of the weirdest conversations to have with reps you don’t know yet–it feels like a creepy blind date), and while I was talking, I became distracted by the unmuffled sound of a taped up, teal beater groaning its way around the airport pickup lane.

A pretty close approximation to the car I rode in...

My stomach sank even lower when I realized that the beater car was to be my chariot for the rest of the day. I couldn’t actually open my door–it had to be opened from the inside by the driver, but when the door finally swung towards me, I was enveloped by a cloud of yellow labrador hair. The seats were pretty much upholstered with dog hair (instantly making me regret my all black sweater/pants combo). I shook the rep’s clammy hand and flinchingly got into the passenger seat, where I was greeted with slobber and panting by his dog (that he unironically called his “girlfriend”–he even teared up about it–but I decided not to press that one any further). I tried to make chit chat as we started our drive, but all conversation points led to a dead end, so instead we just listened to AM sports radio and I leaned hard against the door and stared out the window, half fearing for my life (the dashboard was lit up like a christmas tree) and half out of sheer frustration because I now had a huge pool of slime/hot condensed breath and dog hair coating my neck (don’t get me wrong–I love dogs and now have two, but this was unbearable).

After about 45 minutes, we were out in the middle of nowhere and I was happy because I thought we’d be close to our destination. Just as I started to breathe a sigh of relief, I saw that we were slowing down and turning onto a gravel road. My heart jumped into my throat (was he going to take me into the woods and kill me?!) and I squeaked, “Wait, is this where we are supposed to be going?!”

The rep gave me an exasperated sigh and told me that in fact, we were going to drop his dog/girlfriend off with his family because he didn’t feel safe having her in the car with him–highway driving and vehicles were patently unsafe, if anything were to happen to her he’d never forgive himself (What. The. F*&!? At this point, I started to lose it). I told him I’d wait in the car (and regain my composure by calling my loved ones and thanking them for all the good times), but he sighed again and told me that no, I couldn’t wait in the car because we were about to have breakfast with his family.

I was horrified–I mean, what was happening? Was this for real? But what could I do? I got out of the car and finally made it into the house after being accosted by about 8 dogs and 19 cats. As I passed through walls covered with 1970s, wood-framed family photographs and a decor scheme that looked as if a country craft fair had thrown up all over the house, I walked into the kitchen and was confronted with his entire family, in their pajamas, eating breakfast around their dining room table. I kept waiting for Ashton to jump out and be like, “You just got PUNK’D!”

This seriously would have been a welcome sight...

His (really quite kind and affable) father asked me how I liked my eggs, and if I wanted coffee, and then I was shuffled to a seat next to his grandmother, who proceeded to keep touching my pants and sweater (but eventually stopped after someone told her, “no, no, granny, don’t touch the nice lady!”). The rest of the meal was a nightmarish blur filled with questions seemingly related to my relationship status (I’m not altogether convinced that the family knew I was a colleague and not a girlfriend), but somehow I managed to choke down my meal and stood up as soon as I’d finished, quite anxious to leave.

This decor, times a million bajillon

As we headed out, his mom kindly gave us a lunchbox generously filled with roast beef and tuna sandwiches, and a huge pile of ironed shirts (he proudly told me she still did his laundry and ironing), and we hit the road. I learned in the car that we would in fact be staying over night in the satellite market (at a Motel 6) and I nearly had a panic attack thinking about the drive back and the fact that I had nearly 24 hours more before my nightmare was over. We finally made it to our destination, where we saw a couple of accounts, sold zero point zero wine, and eventually ended up at the one good restaurant in town; the rep ended up pissing off the buyer and got his company kicked out of the account for good. The ride back was in silence (except for the AM talk radio) while the rep silently seethed about the buyer for expelling him from sales to his restaurant.

I am not sure how I could have prevented this series of events, other than insisting I get my own car, but thankfully, nothing even close has happened in the years since that very strange 24 hours. And luckily, these days, if anything gets weird, I have millions of emails, phonecalls and if all else fails, the internet and Facebook to keep me distracted. And of course, it makes a great story on how sometimes, the wine business can be anything but glamorous (although it provides endless hours of entertainment, even if only in hindsight).

On Ride-Withs (and “My First Ride-With”)

My first ride-with was when I was 21 years old. It was June (I had just graduated from college the previous month) and I was working with a distributor rep in Eastern Washington. Within 15 minutes of getting into the car, the rep broke down in tears and told me that she was going through a horrible divorce and bankruptcy filing because her ex turned out to be a con-man who was addicted to crack and had re-mortgaged all of their possessions to pay for his addiction. Unfortunately all of their possessions happened to be in her name so she was the one liable for all the debt. She had been thisclose to purchasing her dream house so that she could turn it into a bed and breakfast, and just like that, the dream had gone up in smoke. All day we visited restaurants that were basically knock-off Olive Gardens, or the occasional gas station with a wine license, and most stops, she would have to leave in the middle of the presentation because she was in tears. I was horrified and wondered silently what my dad would say if he knew that this was my new career.

My next ride-with hadn’t gone much better. This time, I met with a sales rep in a major metropolitan city, and she was over an hour late. She showed up disheveled and hung-over, clearly still wearing the previous night’s club dress, and as soon as we got in the car (littered with gum wrappers, diet pill bottles and cologne samples) she told me we had to go back to her place because she’d just returned from a one-night-stand and she needed to feed her cats. I was bewildered and didn’t know what to do. We drove to her apartment and she insisted I come in; it was a damp, dark basement apartment that smelled like stripper perfume and cat pee. She disappeared into the bathroom for almost an hour (after feeding her cats a half eaten can of tuna), and I just stood there feeling like I wanted to cry. We finally made it out of the apartment and headed to lunch, where she proceeded to tell me her “man troubles” and told me we didn’t need to visit any accounts because she’d “sell the sh*t out of “ my wine anyway. She insisted we walk over to the makeup counter at a nearby department store so she could do a makeover on me (in her “former life”, she was a makeup salesgirl), and somehow I ended the day having spent $40 on makeup I never used again, and visited no accounts.

Luckily after nearly 10 years, the ride-withs have gotten much better, but I did have quite a string of really bad experiences when I first started, and I look back now and wonder how I stuck with it.

So how did I even get into it in the first place?

How I look on ride-withs...

When I graduated from college, I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life. I double-majored in History and Visual Culture Studies (aka Art History) at a small liberal arts college in Walla Walla, and many of my fellow majors were either going directly into law school or were getting ready to begin the graduate school application process. I met with my advisers and they firmly suggested that I take a few years of work in the “real world” before considering graduate school; one of my advisers jokingly told me that I’d be better off going to night classes to learn web-design to start up porn websites because he had some former students who’d done it and were now multi-millionaires (he knew because they still kept in touch, and they had told him all about the endless prospects in the internet world of milk-and-honey). Obviously that was out of the question. I also couldn’t stomach the thought of law school and the expense (and lifestyle upon graduating). Somehow the wine world seemed way more appealing…

During college, I worked two jobs: one at a local wine bar/wine shop during the week, and on the weekends, I worked at a local tasting room. Somehow I managed to get a meeting with the national salesperson for that winery and was offered a job doing regional sales, starting as soon as I graduated. The problem was that I had zero training, zero knowledge of the wine business outside tasting room sales, and next-to-zero knowledge of wine outside Walla Walla.

I had a few cursory meetings with my new boss (who frankly was nearly as inexperienced as I was when it came to working on the supplier side), but she did tell me that I needed to start doing these things called “ride-withs.” These “ride-withs” were basically an entire day, where I, the winery rep, would ride along with a distributor sales rep and visit between 6-10 of their accounts, and at each stop, pour wine and make a sales presentation for the wine buyer. The function of the ride with was multi-purpose:

1) Sell wine—the hope would be that at each stop, the buyer would enjoy the wines enough to put them on his wine list or shelf, and maybe even get a wine by the glass or on display somewhere

2) Educate the sales rep—after 6-10 repetitions of the winery story and information about the wines, the sales rep would (hopefully) remember those details and be able to share them again when presenting my wines to other accounts in my absence

3) Build a relationship with the sales rep and the accounts—spending the day in someone’s car provides a great opportunity to get to know someone. Additionally they introduce you to their buyers, which can hopefully lead to direct communication between you, the supplier, and the buyer

4) Show the distributor that you support them in their efforts and that you are committed to a successful and fruitful sales relationship

Some things I quickly learned are very important on a ride with:

1) Have a sell sheet e.g. a list of the wines you are showing, along with prices and pertinent information on the winery/wines.

2) You should probably know about the wines you are selling. This seems like a no brainer but I’ve heard that a lot of supplier reps have no clue about the most basic details of their wine (vineyard locations, oak regime, alcohol, cases produced, etc.)

3) Keep a record of whom you visited and what you showed. Write down what they liked and get their card so you can follow up with a thank you, and judge your success against depletions.

4) Be flexible. Remember that distributor reps have a lot to juggle and sometimes have 3 ride-withs a week during busy seasons. Sometimes accounts cancel and sometimes things go wrong; those things are often out of the control of the distributor rep. Besides “moving boxes” you are there to educate and build relationships as a winery ambassador.

The bottom line: ride-withs are an essential tool to build sales for your winery. Although not all of them go as well as you’d hope, you will have some great stories to tell so when you look back on those bad days, you can remember them with a laugh.

Raising Prices…While Maintaining Sales

It happens to everyone at some point: dry-goods costs go up, fruit costs go up, labor costs go up, and fuel costs seem to be constantly on the rise. Yet many consumers seem shocked when wine prices go up. Distributors bristle and retailers and restaurateurs threaten to drop the products. You swear up and down that the price increase is not due to some rave or score in a publication, but instead is related to increased costs to make the wine. People can be jaded, so these assurances are often not enough. So what do you do to keep your sales from tanking?

The short answer is that a raised price will take some time to sink in, and to get people comfortable with it, you’re going to have to spend some money. There are two ways I see to stave-off backlash: put new placement drives in place, and offer on-premise discounts (if state law allows it).

Think about it this way: how much money do you spend visiting any given major market in a year? A week in a big city will cost you roughly $150/night in hotel bills. Then you may have another $100-200 per day of food costs, plus the $350-400 in airfare, $200 for a rental car, $40-100 in parking or cab fares, and of course, the cost of your samples.  Let’s just assume an average trip to a big city will cost you between $1750-2500. As I have said before, I always advocate for face time if you can afford the time and expense. But if you are well established in a market, why not run a new-placement drive on an item where the price has increased? You will be capturing new customers (who didn’t even know what the price was before). You also will retain some of the loyal customers who have purchased the wine in previous vintages. You will also have the added benefit of being “front-of-mind” with your distributor sales reps, and even after you run your program, you will still retain some residual “mind-share.” Skip your visit and do a placement drive.

Another option is to offer an on-premise only discount. This will not attract the kind of immediate depletions you may be hoping for, but it will drive restaurant customers to seek your product out on retail shelves, and you will eventually see modest increases in both on and off-premise sales.

Finally, an additional (or alternative) option is always to sample the sh#t out of your wine. Offer at least one month of samples at 100% billback, or add free goods as samples onto the distributor shipment. To quote one of my favorite distributors, “You gotta pop corks to sell wine!” I know that many producers think their wine should sell on name alone, but there is a LOT of competition and if a sales rep can share your wine with an account, that becomes a known quantity against  a sea of other names and brands.

I’d be curious to hear if anyone out there has any other solutions to improving sales after price increases!

Why Independent Winery Salespeople Should Be on Facebook

An acquaintance of mine who works for a medium-sized family winery recently told me he was quitting Facebook altogether because he felt that it was an insincere way to communicate with people, and if someone really wanted to talk to him, they could pick up the phone and call him, or write him an email or letter, or send some smoke signals.

All kidding aside, as a winery sales rep, that might be the dumbest move he could possibly make. Like it or not, social media, and Facebook in particular, has become an invaluable tool in wine sales. Why on earth would you want to make it harder for customers and sales reps to communicate with you? 

There have been a ton of articles recently on social media and the wine industry (Vinography and 1WineDude have a couple particularly interesting pieces published in the last couple of weeks), and I echo Alder’s sentiment that many salespeople at small, independent wineries approach Facebook with an attitude that is “some combination of fear, scorn, exhaustion, or ‘can’t-be-bothered.’” The same reluctance or unwillingness to reach out to retail consumers is carried over into connecting with buyers, distributor sales reps and somms–the kind of gatekeepers who have the ability to build brands and make sales happen (which translates into dollars in your pocket); they also have their fingers on the pulse of their home markets and can provide you with valuable feedback. Not to mention that many of these people are wonderful human beings with whom you might develop great friendships.

I had a conversation with one of my favorite distributors a few days ago (who I also consider a friend and mentor) and I asked him what kind of qualities the best supplier sales reps have. One of the top things he mentioned was that they all had good relationships with a lot of local buyers and somms. Nothing beats meeting with people face-to-face, and I advocate for that as frequently as you can, but when you’re flying around the country and may only get into certain markets from time to time, Facebook is awesome for staying in touch and checking in with people. I think buyers want to have a connection to the wines they’re putting on their lists and shelves, and I think they are also curious about the people who sell wine to them.   I also have to say that many of my colleagues at distributors or in the greater world of buying and selling often reach out to me with questions about the wines I’m selling (they want tech sheets, they need deal pricing, etc.) first on my Facebook email or wall, and many times they don’t even know my work email address.

A recent study showed that 83% of Facebook users logged into the site between 1-10 times a day. 1 in 13 people in the ENTIRE WORLD are on Facebook. 45% of users check it right when they wake up, and about 75% of the U.S. population is on it. Bottom line: Everyone is on it. It’s a free and useful tool to help you build your network. And if that doesn’t sell you, know that many of your competitors are on it, so while you’re sitting there ranting about technology, they’re making valuable connections that you’ve totally missed out on.