Sellin' it, baby
I am at the heart of a marketing maelstrom.   I am prescient.  I am wise beyond reason.  I can, simply by slapping an adorable nickname on a child, define the full fruit and body, indeed the character, of a wine.  Of an entire marketing campaign supporting the heart and soul of a wine-making organization.

I am a branding phenom. Check it out:

This is a picture of my three daughters.  Just kidding.  Obviously, it’s a picture of three bottles of wine, and my daughters, lovely, charming, intelligent young women that they are, are not inside them. Or are they?

It starts with Cupcake Vineyards. Actually, it starts with Princess Cupcake.

That’s the nickname I gave my first-born little princess when she was just weeks old.  She was an adorable child. 

Now she’s an adorable adult, and she still answers to Cupcake. Sometimes.  But never in public.  When she finished graduate school a few years ago and moved to Chicago, my sister gave her a housewarming present of a case of Cupcake Vineyards Cabernet, a cute and thoughtful gift designed to remind her of home and all the people who love her enough to call her Cupcake.

At about the same time, my favorite wine vender made space on her shelves for a made-for-the-masses line of wines called Middle Sister.  The clever label immediately caught my eye.  I am not a middle sister.  I am one of six sisters, but I landed in the top half of the pack. I grew up being called one of the Big Kids, a much more favorable role than Little Kid.  But I have had a life time of dealing with middle sisters, and let me tell you, sister, they are a complicated bunch.

This is the middle sister in our house.  She resembles the Middle Sister wine labels featuring cute illustrations of snappy young women embodying personality types like Rebel Red, Wicked White, Drama Queen, Goodie Two Shoes, and Surfer Chick, all of whom are presumably middle sisters.

When I saw these labels I thought about buying a bottle for my middle daughter, then thought about how that would only fuel the fire of her middle-sister angst, then thought about how cute the Middle Sister labels are, then thought about how cute my middle daughter is, and then my mother, who is herself a middle sister, bought her a bottle of Middle Sister Rebel Red.

Even though she’s not a rebel, per se.  She’s cute, feisty, energetic, creative, and fun.  Not a rebel.
This is complicated, isn't it?  But it doesn’t yet add up to a marketing maelstrom.

Enter Lulu B.  When I first saw this label, my jaw dropped to the floor.

 How! Did! They! Know????

This is my youngest daughter.  We call her Lulu (that’s a nickname, not her real name).  We also call her Lala, but for today’s purposes we’ll stick with Lulu. 

She’s a delightful young woman, vibrant, intelligent, strong-willed, kind, a recent college graduate (WSU biochem – I'm so proud of you, Lulu!) and my third addition to the wonderful world of wine marketing. 

This is Lulu B., the sassy young woman who is the face of Lulu B. wines.  She’s lunching in Paris, perhaps.  Her travel bag hints at her search for the finest varietals from France, Italy, Spain, California.  Lulu B. is very mysterious. I do not know how she came to be, or which marketing genius gave birth to her. All references to her whereabouts on her website lead to cryptic comments from Lulu B. herself. “When life gets a little crazy, Lulu B. understands you need a little ‘Girlfriend Therapy’ time,”she says at About Us.   “I want to hear your ideas, thoughts and suggestions,” she chirps at Contact Us.  “Please send me an email  and I’ll do my best to back to you as soon as possible.”

I'll get back to you when I find out who she is.  In the meantime, if you need help naming your next wine, give me a call.