Be meticulously snotty. If someone offers you a wine facial, shudder delicately, and insist that nothing less than Chateauneuf-du-Pape touches your skin. Cheap wine is for commoners such as those — ugh — deprived, pink, bubbly drinkers.
Work diligently on unnerving the unsuspecting, with sudden quizzes on wine varietals. Dinner parties make for excellent hunting grounds. Withering sarcasm is always an effective tool. Remember, at all times, you are a superior being because you can name grapes. (Psst: Just don’t call them Gilbert.)
Obsessively insist on clarity in all matters wine-related. If your friend is excitedly discussing her new wine-coloured gown from Melbourne, stop her instantly. Then demand she furnishes details on exactly which shade of wine, complete with notes on terroir, age and style. Add snootily that you don’t think much of Australian ‘fruit bombs’, anyway.
Be competitive. At a wine tasting, gargle the loudest, spit the furthest and swirl your glass as violently as you can without dislocating your wrist. Make sure you reject anything that’s even remotely popular or approachable, with a delicate shudder. Wine must stay complicated and intimidating. How else will you keep the hoi-polloi out?
Finally, work on the vocabulary. When people detect notes of boring old peat, apples and cheese, sniff disdainfully. Then say things such as ‘this is a desperately hedonistic Cabernet with shoulders broad enough for Armani. It starts with freshly mown grass, and moves into hair spray and mutton, ending with traces of straw just vacated by an aromatic pig’. Congratulations, you just made it into the Wine Snob Club!
