I’ve written before about the tedious predictability of algorithms, but in the month following the Olympics, Instagram’s advertising bot really excelled itself, with offers for all manner of sports gear crowding my feed.

At one point, I saw quite a nice pair of shorts. Following in the footsteps of the Galileo of garment marketing, Calvin Klein – who reorganised the universe of underwear modelling – they were shown off by a couple of very attractive men, who covered the diverse bases of their target market quite effectively. The shorts had a little toggle instead of a drawstring, and a removable liner. They were described as “hybrid”, which was overstating things a bit, because in fact they were shorts in a very pure sense.

I clicked. They were £110. They were made from “upcycled marine plastic” and promised to not “let me down”. Having spent too long considering what being let down by an item of clothing might look like — a cotton shirt lacking moral fibre, trousers that unbutton themselves at inopportune moments, a pair of Balenciaga trainers that whispered rather than screamed your ironic knowingness — I decided not to buy them.

The reason I didn’t buy the shorts isn’t because I’m smart, it’s because I’m not sufficiently primed, through incremental marketing, to spend that much money on shorts. It was too big a jump. I flagged the ad as irrelevant, amused and baffled and very grateful, suddenly, for Decathlon.

There’s nothing wrong with £100 shorts, or £100 wine. But the risk is that similar, apparently unjustifiable prices turn off potential buyers, especially younger generations who frequently cite cost as an important reason for lower alcohol consumption and who don’t think that £30 is quite good value for a bottle of wine.

This group especially, not sold on wine just yet, is in need of engagement, not premiumisation which, by definition, requires a solid base. After relentless messaging about less-but-better, it’s important to remember that this strategy only works if there is consumption in the first place. You won’t drink better if it’s something you couldn’t care less about.

HOBBY DRINKING

The reality is that wine drinking over a certain price point is a hobby. Like all hobbies, whether it’s cycling, Warhammer or wine, you can apply valuable premiumisation strategies only once the bug has bitten. No one starts out in cycling with Pirelli tyres; no one gets into watches with Patek Philippe. No one starts out in wine spending £30 in a shop.

After a rough few years, many retailers will be hoping that Christmas delivers for their balance sheet. This December, many independent retailers will have the once-a-year opportunity to sell to people who normally buy wine in supermarkets or multiples, often casually and without much loyalty, who are looking for something special to see out the year. Upselling is a crucial part of the retail strategy.

But not all of those people will be ready to be premiumised; some will need to be engaged with the bigger idea of wine. While certain engaged customers will enjoy nothing more than being upsold to the top end of their preferred wine region, others will need to be enthused on a more fundamental level.

This won’t be done by industrial, marketing-driven, pseudo-story-led wine brands. Real engagement goes deeper than a blurb or a QR code. It means understanding when a Provence rosé might be more suitable with turkey than premier cru Burgundy, knowing when a magnum of NV is better than a bottle of vintage, and appreciating when stories are more important than scores.

If it works, you’ll have plenty of opportunity to upsell further down the line. You might even see them again before next Christmas.