When Kyle and I first started talking about making rosé back in 2011, there were a lot of things that we knew from the start. It had to be a rosé of pinot noir. It had to be from Russian River Valley. It couldn't be too feminine, sweet, or fruity. It should be nostalgic and whimsical but not cheeky. It had to be light, fun, fresh, and something that you could bring to a picnic in the park or a cocktail party on New Years Eve. We wanted it to be not just a bottle of wine but a reason to call your friends and get together.
Almost three years later, when we decided to get serious about rosé, all those things stayed true. Our only problem was how to capture those feelings in a word or two. We met with brand consultants and made lists hundreds of words long trying to come up with the perfect name. We found a few that we liked, but nothing that clicked.
The day before our "eureka" moment, we were waiting to board a flight up to San Francisco. I started folding my boarding pass into a paper plane to pass the time. We joked about how I wasn't very good at making them, but how fun they were and their inherent nostalgia. Still, nothing clicked. The next day, while walking to dinner in San Francisco, Kyle shouted out suddenly "Paper Planes!"
At that moment, we knew we found it. Fun, light, whimsical, nostalgic, simple and playful, it hit all the notes we'd been searching for. Coincidentally, 6 years ago, when we first met, "Paper Planes" by M.I.A. was one of the first songs we danced to. So I guess it was meant to be, it just took us a few years to figure it out.
Paper Planes Rosé
Rosé Isn't An Afterthought - It's Our Only Thought.
