Valentine’s Day came and went, and while I didn’t have a date, I did have Jody. She’s a white wine. And no, I’m not a wine person—but I love white wine, and Jody didn’t disappoint.

Jody Rosé is the kind of wine reserved for life’s best moments—the clink-your-glass, sun-kissed laughter, effortless joy kind of moments. The rooftop brunches, the summer poolside toasts, the “this is what life’s about” memories. But in my case? It was the opposite. My weekend wasn’t filled with grand celebrations. There was no curated aesthetic, no picturesque setting. Just me, my couch, and a glass of Jody. And yet, it still felt right.

Breakups have a way of making everything feel a little too quiet. The kind of quiet that sneaks up on you when you get home and there’s no one to call, no “Did you get home safe?” text, no playful arguments over where to order dinner. But they also create space—to rediscover what brings you joy, what still feels good, what is yours, and yours alone.

So, this weekend, instead of sitting in that silence, I poured myself a glass of Jody Rosé. She wasn’t just a drink—she was company. A chilled, crisp presence that reminded me that life, even in the midst of heartache, still has a little sweetness to it.

That’s the thing about this wine—it meets you where you are. If you’re happy, it matches your mood. If you’re sad, it lifts you up. If you’re in the middle of figuring things out, it says, “Babe, take a sip, we’ll get through this.”Jody isn’t just a wine, she’s an experience.

Crafted by Vika Shipalana, Jody Rosé is meant to embody that effortless Mediterranean charm—the kind that makes you feel like you should be on a yacht in Mykonos when, in reality, you’re in a robe, wondering if you should text your ex (you shouldn’t).

It’s light, refreshing, with just the right amount of acidity to cut through the heaviness of whatever emotions you’re drowning in.

Vika says she wanted to bring the rosé lifestyle to South Africa, and honestly, I get it now. We’re a nation that loves summer, loves celebration, but we don’t always give ourselves permission to romanticize our own lives. We save the rosé for “special occasions,” as if a Saturday alone with your thoughts doesn’t count as one.

This weekend, I made it count. I leaned into the solo date, let Jody keep me company, and let myself feel it all—the nostalgia, the longing, the relief, the excitement of what’s next. Because that’s the thing about new chapters: they may start unexpectedly, but they also bring a fresh perspective. A chance to pour a little more into yourself, to celebrate the now, and maybe even to pick up another bottle of Jody along the way.

So here’s to Jody. To good wine, soft landings, and the kind of moments that don’t need a special occasion—because you are the occasion.