Instinct: the key tool for buying the wine you like

 

This month’s all about you: finding your wine personality, building your personal wine cellar. This week we will show you how to let your instinct and likes guide your wine buying.

Wine buying is not a science. Or a test of character. It’s a moment - usually rushed, sometimes planned - when you decide which bottle goes home with you. And unless you’re a négociant or a spreadsheeter with a cellar that requires a security code, instinct is your most reliable tool.

Not ratings. Not apps. Not the guy at the store who says “this one’s very expressive.” Just that little voice in your mind that whispers, “Remember the petrichor when you were drinking that Sula Chenin Blanc?”

Instinct is what kicks in when you’re standing in front of a shelf with 37 bottles without any idea what you’re in the mood for. It’s what helps you ignore the label that looks like a failed art school project and reach for the one that just feels right.

Instinct can be honed. But first, it needs to be trusted.

Most wine buyers - especially in newer markets - navigate imported snobbery, local confusion, and the occasional wine that tastes like it was bottled during a thunderstorm. And suddenly you’re convinced you should know more. Learn to pronounce “Tempranillo” without giggling. Justify why the Chilean red felt right.

Hold it right there. You don’t owe anyone an explanation. Buying wine is not Swan Lake. It’s a decision. And the only person you need to impress is yourself.

Instinct builds when you start noticing patterns. The South African Pinotage that worked with the noodles. The Italian red with the weird label that turned out brilliant. The rosé you didn’t expect to like but finished embarrassingly quickly. You realise you’re not a “Rioja person” or an “organic wine person.” You’re someone who likes balance, texture, and wines that don’t put you to sleep.

Over time, instinct sharpens. You stop buying to prove something, and start buying because it simply fits - your mood, your meal, your sense of adventure. It’s liberating once you feel that shift.

And that’s where your rhythm comes in.

Wine buying has rhythm. The shelves you scan first. The importers you quietly trust. Thelittle shortcuts you invent without realising it. The understanding that sometimes a screwcap is a blessing, not a compromise - especially on a Wednesday.

And price? A number, not a personality. Buy a $10 bottle without apology. A $100 bottle without ceremony. The only thing that matters is why you’re buying it - not to impress or posture, just to drink. And yes, sometimes “just because” is a perfectly respectable reason.

Your collection doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else. It can hold a ₹900 impulse buy next to a ₹9,000 moment of ambition. Bottles you’ve never heard of and bottles you’ve bought three times. A wine that confused you the first time, but feels like a small personal victory the second. Wines that don’t match your “profile” - because your profile is allowed to change whenever you do.

You’re not curating a museum. You’re stocking a life.

Oh yes, you’ll buy badly. We all do. You’ll pick something that tastes like it was aged in a gym locker. You’ll open it in front of people you like and wish you hadn’t. You’ll learn. You’ll move on. You’ll buy better next time.

That’s not failure. That’s fluency. Or progress.

Instinct isn’t perfect. It’s personal. It’s what separates the buyer who panics and grabs the bottle with the gold foil from the buyer who pauses, scans, and picks the one that just feels right - even if it’s got a jumping kangaroo on it.

And if you’re still wondering whether instinct is enough, here’s the truth: most wine professionals use it too. They just dress it up in jargon. “Structure,” “typicity,” “mid-palate tension,” “tastes like powdered pine needles” - these are just fancy ways of saying, “I’ve tasted enough to know what I like, and this feels right.”

You can do the same. Without the vocabulary. Without the validation. Without the performance.

So, here’s the real advice: trust yourself. Ignore the noise. Forget the pressure. You’re not building a legacy. You’re just trying to make Thursday taste better. And if it works for you - your mood, your meal, your moment - then you’ve nailed it.

No notes. No shame. No imposter syndrome.

Just go grab a bottle and stop overthinking it.

Your wine. Your way.

Wine should be enjoyed. Drink responsibly.
Disclaimer: All links provided in this blog are based on my own research and are not paid or sponsored.