3 Victories at Woodland Hills Wine Co.
Reflecting on important takeaways beyond the 1471 Lebanese bottles sold
When I was hired at Woodland Hills Wine Company in September 2021, I was brought on as a part-time salesperson. It wasn’t supposed to be more than a side gig that would give me my first job in the U.S. and my start in the U.S. wine industry. Now that I’ve concluded my employment there, I want to reflect on three major wins while being the smallest cog in a machine that was much larger than I thought when I applied.
As I said before, I was not hired as an Ancient World wine buyer or consultant but I invented that role once the opportunity was nonchalantly mentioned on my second day. A year and a half later, a grand total of 1471 bottles of Lebanese wine were sold. That’s my biggest stat to boast about but there are other qualitative achievements that aren’t as concrete but worth noting.
#1 - I built an entire category
When I started, Chateau Musar and a few neglected Greek bottles were all that could be classified as “Ancient World.” From what I could see, Musar sold itself and the Greek bottles were a forgotten few that would eventually be bought by someone in the next 1-3 years. I mapped out a plan to gradually fill out the rack, 1 case at a time until I’d have a proper collection under my tutelage. By my first holiday season there, WHWC was carrying wines from Cyprus and Armenia for the first time in its 43-year history. Now, the store’s Ancient World section has +30 different bottlings, with Lebanon making up at least 60% of that selection.
The representation of these places was important to me but it became clear that it was important to others who would come in and see themselves reflected on the racks. I bonded with people next to our section and it was a boost each time. While it was a tiny moment for them in their day, it gave me the tiny motivation I needed. Knowing that building this tiny corner in a shop in the Valley meant something to others too made it seem less tiny in the grand scheme of things. It mattered.

#2 - I was forced to ask for help
As someone who’s independent to a fault, it’s hard for me to ask for help without the fear of being let down or without feeling like I’m burdening someone else. Joining as the only woman on the sales team, I put enormous pressure on myself to be an example that a woman could hold her own and do this job just as well as any man could. The wine industry is historically male-dominated and the store’s employment history seemed to agree that it was a laborious job better suited for men and I didn’t want my being a woman to ever be used against me. I wanted to be just as knowledgeable, just as useful, and just as strong when it came to lifting and moving cases of wine (around 32lbs/15 kg each, sometimes more if wood or heavier glass is involved) all day. All of this combined just exacerbated my existing stubborn resistance to help, especially from the men around me.
The guys didn’t explicitly say anything to make me feel this way but I worried about anything I lacked in the job being blamed on the fact that I was a woman and, after seeing how female newbies who couldn’t lift didn’t make it beyond the first 2 weeks (sometimes the first 2 days) and were mercilessly written off for it, I didn’t want to give them any excuse to doubt my abilities. I was already behind when it came to producers and grapes and although that would improve with time, not being a top student was uncomfortable enough for me. I didn’t want to fall short anywhere else.
Being the only woman on the sales team meant I wanted them to never see me as a woman but also never forget I was one.
And then I pulled a chest muscle - or rib inflammation? After x-rays and a CT scan, it’s still unclear what this tenderness is - and I needed to take it easy for a few weeks. I was forced to get over myself and ask the guys to help me pull orders and lift cases. They didn’t flinch and they helped whenever I asked. Shortly after, my right knee randomly popped after I stood up searching for a customer’s order and they had to be my human crutches to get out the door, despite my tears and insecurity about my weight. It popped back in place on the way to the ER (which has a 3-hour wait) so I went back to work and finished my shift. After repeatedly realizing I could literally lean on them and they wouldn’t see me as less than, I embraced needing, asking for, and accepting help from my colleagues. I knew they knew I wouldn’t ask unless I needed to. I knew they knew I’d reject their help if it was offered because I was a woman. And I knew they knew I appreciated them not making it out to be that.
By this February, when I saw a wooden case on the top shelf in the warehouse which was just a bit higher than I wanted to go on a step ladder, “hey, can I get some help?” became something I didn’t think twice about asking. It may seem ridiculous, but that is big for me.
#3 - I left my mark on the space, the guys, and the customers
There are physical traces of me that I’ve left behind that have nothing to do with wine: a Nightmare Before Christmas ornament over the wrapping station, a shaffeh cup for extra change by a register, a mini stapler with my name emblazoned on it, a Guerrilla Girls postcard taped up in the ladies room.
But that’s not what I’m talking about when I say I’ve left a mark.
Even if it was just a side hustle that made me check my ego at the door, I solidified myself as the curator of vino from wine countries that get ignored. Seeing that my impact was felt by the people around me is a gratifying feeling because it means the success of everything I had done there was not separate from me. It wasn’t just that I had introduced my coworkers and customers to wines they hadn’t heard of and that any Ancient World enthusiast could’ve done that. I was a facilitator for bottle sales that never would’ve happened otherwise but, in my last 3 weeks, I knew I was more than just the Lebanese wine person to some.
This month, every time a customer would speak to me by name or mention my weekly emails, I’d choke up. I didn’t foresee forging friendships with these strangers who came in to buy wine on a weekly basis. I didn’t expect the regulars to be people who would invite me to Christmas parties or give me mementos to remember them by. I didn’t expect all my coworkers and a few vendors to be genuinely sad about my departure. Although I was there just 3-4 times a week with 95% of the time being on weekends, I had connected with this motley crew of brothers and I had created a club for those who appreciated what I brought to the store.
This job wasn’t a big career move and initially, I wasn’t sure if I’d stick it out for more than a year. But after 18 months of sacrificed weekends, being able to see my effect on other people was more meaningful than total sales numbers and money earned. The 3 wins above are what made my time there worth it.
Way to bury the lead, Farrah! I mean of course we all care about your successes, but where's the dish on Joshua J and Ian S?! ;)