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Some male egos, like beautifully crafted stemware, are fragile. It’d be silly to let such fragility dictate your bar order, right? Apparently not.
Is whiskey a man’s spirit, while women are only allowed to sip cosmopolitans? What qualifies as a “manly” or “girly” drink? We spoke to bartenders across the country and asked how often notions of masculinity and femininity play into beverage orders. And apparently, it’s common.
While some may consider this discourse innocuous, it speaks to a psychology behind consumption and identity that’s less about what someone actually likes versus what they think they should like or look like during a night out.
Some argue it’s a generational thing—equating martinis and champagne cocktails with the Rat Pack or cocksure secret agent James Bond. Dozens of Reddit and Quora threads dedicated to the hospitality industry mention the frequency of the request to swap out cocktails for different glassware, while some digital platforms have taken it upon themselves to qualify what’s a “manly cocktail.”
“I think men are so much more sensitive to having their identity threatened,” says Liv deHainault, bartender at Maxwells Trading in Chicago’s Fulton Market neighborhood.
“Prior to working at Maxwells, I got [this question] at least once a week,” she says. “I remember so many gender-specific conversations around ‘girly glasses’—it would always come back to that: ‘I don’t need a frilly glass.’”
So-called girly glasses, according to deHainault, tend to be stemware—specifically martini and coupe glasses. Meanwhile, thicker, heavier, and shorter such as rocks or collins/highball glasses are seen as more masculine. Wine glasses, hurricane glasses with shorter stems, even flutes aren’t usually triggers.
“French 75s are in the midst of such a resurgence, but the amount of grown men who insist on pouring sidecars into a shorter glass is crazy,” she says. “It’s served without ice, that’s the point of the stem. Do you want to drink a warm drink?”
Apart from preferred temperature, pros are quick to note that preoccupations with visual perception turn into questions about service.
“If I pour your cosmo from a five-and-a-half ounce coupe glass into an old-fashioned glass, it’s going to look like you’ve got two ounces of liquid in it,” says Brett Esler, bar manager at Golden Ace in Austin, Texas. “The guest will then ask, ‘Why isn’t my drink filled all the way up?’ You find yourself arguing with guests in circles and time is of the essence behind the bar.”
“Maybe it’s a generational thing,” Esler suggests. “I can’t remember any instances where I’ve got an old-timer asking for a less girly glass,” he says. “Is it insecurity? Are you just a creature of habit and you’re not open-minded enough to try something different? If James Bond can drink out of a martini glass, so can you.”
“Me and my boys don’t struggle with toxic masculinity,” says James Carpenter, a self-styled “mayor” of Chicago’s Bucktown neighborhood. “I drink the occasional espresso martini in a martini glass. I know the difference between a Champagne flute and a coupe. They have their functions.”
Florida-based writer Paul de Revere shared he was once that guy. “On several occasions I ordered something in a martini glass or some kind of stemware. I remember thinking, I’m going to knock this over or That glass looks ridiculous,” he says. “I just like the feel of a highball or rocks glass. Particularly with a rocks glass, I like that I could sip more air, which depending on what you’re drinking, affects the flavor.”
Being from a college football town, de Revere has seen plenty of examples of when perception has triumphed over taste and experience. “I have seen men purposefully avoid certain drinks because the picture on the menu shows the drink in a froofy glass,” he says. “I think the color of drinks put men off more than the actual glassware. If it’s something blue or—god forbid—pink, guys get in their feelings about that.”
Some establishments let their marketing do the talking. Cindy’s Rooftop inside the Chicago Athletic Association hotel began featuring watercolor illustrations of the cocktails and glassware on the menu to try and curtail the issue.
“It became very necessary,” explains Kylie McCalla, Cindy’s beverage director. “Especially in a high-volume place, having something sent back because they don’t like it aesthetically can be deeply frustrating. Pink or purple up-drinks are sent back without being tried because they make someone look feminine or unmasculine.” They’ve also observed a gender bias over certain flavor profiles; more booze-forward beverages are seen as more masculine.
“It’s this cultural thing of men holding their booze and women can’t,” McCalla says. “I kept thinking about Sex & the City—girls gossiping over cosmos and the men grumbling over whiskey.”
At Scotch Lodge in Portland, Oregon, bartender Nathan Elliott says social media is the best way to inform guests of the cocktail program, curtailing most requests for different glassware. “All our cocktails are on our Instagram feed, there are people who come in already knowing what they want and what to expect.“
One could argue you owe it to yourself to experience what you can’t at home. To let the perception of gender stand in the way of a range of experiences speaks to the rigidity of the identity boxes we use to separate ourselves. “Our goal is to make a guest feel comfortable,” Elliott says. “Cocktails don’t have a gender, and what you order doesn’t imply it either.”