Let the wine breathe: a moodboard & manifesto for Avaline

It's giving all white kitchens

Avaline has all the right ingredients, and loath as I am to use this word, it literally has all the right ingredients. It’s clean, organic, beautifully bottled, and backed by celebrity co-founders with massive reach. On paper, it should be unstoppable. And yet, in practice, the brand voice feels stuck. Overly manicured. Overly stiff.

I found myself served an ad for Avaline while browsing Facebook. What I expected was elegance. What I got was the emotional energy of a high-end funeral home: sterile table scapes, impersonal lighting, and six mismatched glasses that looked like they were sourced from a consignment bin labeled “meh.”

Avaline isn’t a bad brand. It’s just not connecting. That’s a problem.

The Conflict: Avaline talks a lot about clean ingredients, organic farming, and transparency. It’s a wine with nothing to hide. But the branding hides everything that might make it memorable.

Where there could be warmth, there’s chill. Where there could be play, there’s polish. Where there could be presence, there’s perfectionism.

No one wants that, especially from a wine.

The result: A brand that looks expensive, sounds inoffensive, and feels… hollow. The product promises joy, lightness, connection, but the marketing copy reads like it was edited in a beige room by committee. The snacks some celery sticks with stiff almond butter.

The Missed Moment: People don’t want white kitchens and pretty shadows anymore. We’re in a post-perfection era. The brands that win now are the ones that show up with presence, humor, and honesty. Think Pamela Anderson walking makeup-free down the red carpet. Think dinner parties with wine rings on the linen napkin. Think real moments, not just aspirational lifestyle Pinterest boards.

Avaline has the right wine. But it’s whispering into a void.

The Solution: I created a moodboard that shows what it might be if it relaxed. A swirl, a sniff, a suggestion. Not a rebrand. Just a breath of fresh air.

Elegance shouldn't be stiff and lifeless.

What if Avaline dropped the high-gloss restraint and leaned into clean and human? What if it stopped whispering and started toasting? What if it made space for people to feel something more than "that looks nice"?

The brand desperately needs humanity for what humanity is, not what it thinks it should be. It needs warm elements, texture, laughter, a vibe that says: "I love those Manolos, but make yourself comfortable!" as it invites you to the back deck, aglow with string lights, the Malibu surf the soundtrack of the evening. The wine should be part of the moment, not apart from it.

The ingredients are already there. The story is waiting. The voice... It’s time to let it breathe.

This is wine for lives that are a little messy, a little beautiful, and completely worth celebrating. Let’s make the brand feel like that, too.