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Mother's Little Helper

Recently, in a wine shop in Medford, I saw a display of wine marketed to a fairly obvious target market: exhausted mothers. I'm amazed I never saw anyone doing this before. A pregnant woman, especially in America, spends nine or more months without a drink. Then she gives birth, which at its best is a somewhat traumatic experience. Her entire life has changed. A whole new layer of potential stress and guilt has been laid atop her existence (and joy and wonder, but those aren't the ones that make you say, "I could sure use a drink," so I'm glossing over for now).

I found this marketing gambit pretty ballsy, here in Puritanical Massachusetts. I wonder who's behind it. "Mommy's Time Out." Brilliant! And notice, the display is empty.



The store's attempt to market wine to die-hard Red Sox fans, to the left of the Mommy's Helper box, was slightly less successful. Those guys are already drinking beer. The idea of putting baseball players' faces on wine seems like as bad an idea as Mommy's Helper is a great one. Wine drinkers won't like it, and neither will jocks and baseball fans.



Here's another wine targeting mommy, though with slightly less hutzpah and humor.



That label says to me, "I'm so drunk that my child has become nothing more than a colorless, fuzzy sketch to me. Hope she keeps up, 'cause I'm not stopping now."





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