041Wine | Lelethu Zondani
This March marks nine years of me being in the wine industry. Nine years of wine tastings, PR packages, launches, long lunches and what I jokingly call holy water. When I really sit with that number, it feels both exciting and slightly daunting. A decade of my life shaped by vineyards, varietals and late nights swirling glasses.
As I turn 30 this year, I find myself thinking about it differently. The older I get, the louder the internal siren becomes about taking care of my body and my mind. I catch myself lying awake at night wondering what kind of long-term effects this lifestyle has had on me. At 21 you do not think about your liver. At 30, you absolutely do.
I have not always been a heavy wine drinker. During Covid, when the industry came to a sudden halt, I unexpectedly found space to pause. Instead of buying overpriced bottles to keep momentum alive, I gave my liver a break. That quiet season allowed me to think about longevity and sustainability, not just for my health but for my career. It was in that space that Aficionado Tastings was born.
Now, almost a decade into this journey, I have decided to be sober. Not permanently, but intentionally. For a season.
I will still be heavily involved in the wine industry. I could never completely cut it out of my life because it has shaped me in too many ways. I love this industry deeply. It feels like my baby, and I genuinely believe God placed me here for a reason.
At the same time, I cannot ignore what I have been noticing around me. More and more people are choosing sobriety, and in a country like South Africa, where groove culture is deeply embedded in our social fabric, that choice requires discipline. We are known for producing world-class athletes, musicians and artists and, in my world, most importantly, wine. Being ranked eighth globally in wine production is no small achievement. It is something I will always champion.
Yet I find myself asking an uncomfortable question.
Is the decline in wine consumption really sitting solely in the hands of sober drinkers, or are we simplifying a far more complex issue?
It is convenient to blame wellness culture. The sober curious movement is visible and easy to critique. Choosing green juice over grenache fits neatly into a narrative about discipline and self-improvement. But what if the shift has just as much to do with economics as it does with health?
The financial reality many people are facing cannot be ignored. Groceries are more expensive. Petrol prices fluctuate constantly. Rent continues to climb. Every purchase now requires intention. Indulgences, especially, are scrutinised.
And here is where I have to be honest about myself.
My taste has changed over the years. I no longer want the R50 bottle. I yearn for the R200 one, sometimes even more. My palate has matured, and with that maturity comes a desire for complexity, craftsmanship and story. I want to taste intention in a glass.
The challenge, however, is that elevated taste comes with an elevated price tag. If I cannot justify spending R200 or more on a bottle regularly, and I refuse to regress in quality just to maintain the habit, the most logical decision becomes cutting it out altogether.
It sounds more admirable to say sobriety is purely about health, and for me, health is certainly part of it. Recovery feels different now. Clarity feels better. My body deserves care. But I would be dishonest if I did not acknowledge the financial layer beneath it.
Perhaps for many people, sobriety is not a rejection of wine but a reflection of economic consciousness. When standards rise but disposable income does not, abstinence can feel easier than compromise. If you cannot afford the experience you truly want, you opt out entirely.
If that is true, then the wine industry has to ask itself difficult questions. Are we losing consumers to wellness culture, or are we losing them to inflation and shifting spending priorities? Are people walking away from wine, or are they simply unwilling to compromise on quality in a tightening economy?
As for me, my plan is not to disappear but to adapt.
I want to explore how one can support the wine industry while sober. I am curious about non-alcoholic wine tastings and how these wines are produced. Are they grown and crafted according to the same standards as traditional wines, or are they simply elevated grape juice? These are conversations worth having.
As I move closer to 30, I also find myself thinking about motherhood. I wonder whether I will be able to maintain a wine career while pregnant or raising children. Mothers who drink wine are often portrayed in the media as unstable or irresponsible, as though moderation and motherhood cannot coexist. That stigma is something I would like to challenge, not only for my future self but for the women around me. Becoming a mother should not require abandoning every part of who you were before.
When I entered the wine industry nine years ago, my goal was to integrate wine into as many conversations and spaces as possible. I wanted to showcase its versatility and keep people open-minded about wine culture. Society evolves, and so do consumers. Our health priorities shift. Our finances shift. Our standards shift.
The wine industry must evolve alongside us.
So no, I do not believe the decline of the wine industry can be placed solely on sober drinkers. I believe we are witnessing a generation that is more conscious of its health, its money and its future. And perhaps sobriety is not the enemy of wine, but rather a mirror reflecting where the industry needs to adapt.
I would love to know your thoughts.
Happy Wine Wednesday. 🍷
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