Birds of a feather takeover Instagram together
There is no shortage of rosé on Instagram. In fact, it’s recently gotten to the point where a lack of rosé in hand during any warm weather activity causes people to feel like a failure. If a tree falls in the forest but no one’s around, it definitely makes a sound — it’s called, “Boom.” (Or, “HEY GUYS I’M FALLING WATCH OUT.”) But sitting on the beach without Instagramming your pink drink is like announcing to the world that you did not just have a weekend. Maybe you don’t even know what fun is.
After all, as the account @YesWayRosé likes to say, it’s #summerwater.
The remedy to my own existential panic became apparent when a photo surfaced of an old collegiate friend holding her signature water bottle of Franzia. Genius. All I had to do was pack a rosé roadie — or as I like to call it, on-the-gosé — and keep it on me at all times, with a frosted glass, just in case. I might even save the day:
“Hang on guys!,” I’d announce while pouring wine into a cup bravely from the 2nd-down tier of a share-house human pyramid. “Ok, the rosé’s ready. We can take the picture now.” And then everyone would applaud my resourcefulness, because everyone knows that a group shot isn’t worth posting without Sancerre’s hotter sister.
But just as the saying goes that when man plans, god laughs, I came up with the rosé solution and a new major problem occurred: the pool swan.
Not that kind. Although real birds creep me out too.
There we go.
The pool swan is the new symbol of fun. It is the epitome of a good weekend. Your tan tells me nothing. Your sunburn just looks painful. Your hangover is a joke and your neon wristband is worthless because if Valencia rosé was summer water, the Instagrammed pool swan just pooped in it.
Now why is this a problem?
For one, a pool swan cannot be packed conveniently in a water bottle. Even if it could, a single pool swan takes four hours to deflate and requires the cheek expansion plus lung capacity of Louis Armstrong-meets-Dizzy Gillespie to fill back up. This means that in order to ensure fun at all times, every weekend, I’m going to have to start strapping a gigantic white BIRD to my back just in case I’m at a pool party without one.
That’s the other thing. I’m not sure about the social protocol of being at a pool party without one. Is that even allowed? To be caught in a situation without blush colored wine is sort-of-okay when you consider open container laws or the fact that not everyone drinks, but what excuse do any of us have to be near a body of man-made water without a dinosaur-sized chicken? None. We have none. Do you feel my anxiety now?
Rosé was a club that anyone could gain access to. All you needed was an ID that scanned, a filter that flattered and a budget that matched your amateur sommelier palette — no one had to know that you were drinking ten dollar wine. This stupid pool swan, however, is a little bit more exclusive. At $49 a pop, it’s definitely more expensive, and the fact that it requires a POOL to make contextual sense quite honestly means that it’s high maintenance as fuck. Can’t just bust out my pool swan on the subway and be like, #STAYCATION, now can I?
But that doesn’t mean I didn’t just go on eBay and buy one.
Feature Image shot by Gabor Jurina, Additional images via Instagram