My love affair with wine began in college. It was there I discovered the ubiquitous Boone’s Farm label, which offers a delightful alternative to Thunderbird, MD 20/20, or even Blatz beer. Take it from me: Strawberry Hill pairs well with Top Ramen noodles.
Some of the finest wines I’ve ever tasted were served at fancy corporate dinners, the kind of over-the-top restaurant meals in which the handmade chocolate souffle cost more than my initial apartment furniture budget. In my heyday, I drank several bottles of wine that were older (and arguably more complex) than Jessica Simpson.
But alas! There’s a problem with most of those rarified upper crust wines. Their branding strategy caters to wine snobs. They all boast elegant family names and tasteful labels that are, ultimately, forgettable. Especially after you’ve downed a couple of bottles. You wake up the next morning, shave your tongue, and mutter, “That was a fantastic wine last night. Wish I could remember what it was called…”
Therein lies the rub: although I’ve drank many fine wines costing more than a full tank of diesel, I have absolutely no recollection of the best of the bunch. Those brands are but fuzzy, pleasant memories that rapidly faded in my mental rearview mirror.
Then there are the party wines — the daily drinkers, if you like. Because these cost around $10 a bottle (give or take a few dollars), they are found in every store. And their branding strategy is designed to impress a mass market consumer such as myself. This often means screaming florescent yellow labels with names like “UNGA BUNGA – the Tribal Shiraz!” The more memorable the brand, the more likely a sober mass market consumer will pick it up for the next party.
Enter Happy Camper — the first wine brand I’ve seen that caters to the RV/camping market. The name is brilliant, instantly memorable. The label is its equal, boasting an Airstream-like travel trailer, an aluminum-skinned towable nested somewhere amongst the California redwood trees. On the bottle neck sleeve are camping scenes of (hopefully sober) people canoeing, bicycling, and even piloting a motorboat. How can an RV enthusiast not remember a brand like Happy Camper?
Then there’s the wine. As I state in the video review, Happy Camper is a good wine. I daresay that if it were served in your glass at a fancy steak and lobster dinner (the kind with those exquisitely delicate chocolate souffles) you wouldn’t skip a beat. Happy Camper may draw you in with the label, but what’s inside the bottle will keep you coming back.