I’m a Man and I Love Rosé

Wineawesomeness / Vimeo

I’m a man. I love rosé. And I will order it whenever I please. But can you please stop judging me for it?

Judging a man for ordering a glass of rosé is like judging a man for wearing a pink shirt. It’s nonsense and it’s outdated. Your gender shouldn’t dictate what you drink—we’re not living in the 1950s. And my testosterone levels don’t make the delightfully crisp, strawberry-sunshine flavors of a Provencal rosé any less refreshing.

I shouldn’t have to feel ashamed for my love of rosé. I’m tired of your dirty looks every time I order the pleasantly pink wine at a bar or restaurant. I shouldn’t feel the need to hide behind my sunglasses when I’m holding that good, good glass of rosado. I heard that snide remark you made to your coworker as you typed my order into the POS system. Yes, I just ordered a bottle of Bandol rosé for myself—have you tried it? It’s great. Do you see this lovely day that we’re having? The sun is beaming and I’m ready to come out of winter hibernation. I’m ready to shed my many layers of sweaters. I’m ready to stop eating stews and drinking mulled wine. I’m ready for rosé.

In fact, it would be a crime to not bask in the delightful weather with a rosy glassful. Do you really expect me to order a fine but unremarkable Pinot Blanc or a way too heavy, drab Cabernet Sauvignon when there’s a full menu of rosés? And f*ck your small batch Oregon Pinot Noir. Unless, of course, it’s a Pinot Noir rosé.

If you are a man with a deep love of blush-hued wine, know that you are not alone. You are not the only one experiencing vino profiling. And it is not only OK to be a bearded, gym-going, hyper-masculine rosé lover, but it is something to be proud of. Because real men drink pink.

So the next time you want to order some coral-colored wine, don’t shy away, sulk or regret your decision. Instead, beam with pride and happiness that you’re moments away from enjoying an ice-cold, boldly fruity, intoxicatingly cooling glass of rosé. And when that sour-faced wet blanket of a server or a fellow customer gives you the evil eye, scream loudly for everyone to hear: “I’m a man! I love rosé! And I will order it whenever I damn please!”