MYTHS OF THE SPECTATOR
From a PR Perspective
By Alan Goldfarb
Sept. 6, 2022
Thank goodness this doesn’t happen very much any longer, but it used to be the first question every prospective PR client would ask was, “Can you get me in the Spectator?”. Yeah, sure, why not?
Perhaps it doesn’t happen as often any longer because maybe The Wine Spectator’s influence is waning as the world’s wine demographic trends younger. But the “S” word question lingers, followed by me saying, “It’s not going to be easy, but of course, I’ll try.” Followed by them saying, “I hear ya gotta pay to get in there.”
That is an absolute myth, bubbemeises and horsepucky as Colonel Potter used to say (look it up). I know for a fact that one can pay through the nose to the good folks at the Spectator – and it unequivocally will get you bupkes.
I know this because I once had a client – who shall go nameless here to protect the guilty – who asked me if putting a full-page ad in the country’s wine publication of record could get her wines in the magazine? I told her it wouldn’t. She did it anyway.
Not only did she do it, she did it three times, taking out three full-page ads over three months. I don’t know what she paid, but it really didn’t matter because she was attached to one of America’s richest families. What the hell was (I’m guessing) 15 large, each go around?
So, she shelled out 45K, or so, and where did it get her?
Three good-looking vainglorious ads in the No. 1 wine mag in the world and then gornisht – nothing, zilch, and again, bupkis. Ah, maybe the winery sold some wine off those ads, but I bet it was negligible.
What she really wanted, she didn’t get: A feature story – with her mug of course – or at the very least, a review – in the 90s, naturally.
The kicker: She blamed me for not getting her in the magazine; and shortly thereafter, I was ousted like some sort of PR flack, who had run out of slack. Which I was, and I did.
I was once told by a very kind soul, who was an important soul at the Spectator, the only way you’ll ever get a sniff of a “possible” front-of-house short, let alone a feature from the nation’s wine arbiter, was you had to have a track record of 90-plus scores. Then and only then, might you get a nibble. Or if you’re a star. But you can’t get to be a star, unless the Wine Decider makes you a star.
So, what I let my clients, who are not stars yet know, is that I’ll hit them a lot of singles and doubles (like Carl Yastrzemski, whose mother and father I once interviewed when I was a sportswriter; and who is Mike’s grandfather); and Derek Jeter). Oh, and I’ll hit a few homers and get them in the Times, or the Wall Street Journal, and maybe Bloomberg or Decanter and/or Robb Report.
The Spectator? I’ll try, especially because I know my way around those myths.