The flair world today seems to be experiencing a deep identity crisis within a socio-economic context where—let's be honest—people have decided to drink less. The reasons, of course, are endless, but this isn't the time for a Spaghetty-style evaluation.
What is certain is that today flair lives split right down the middle between the legacy of the 80s and 90s and the demands of beverage multinationals, which are increasingly oriented toward minimalism and sustainability. To discuss all this, we decided to meet Giorgio Facchinetti, someone who turned flair into his business (which, in a way, should be the goal of any activity).

In an era driven by image like our own, a movement like flair carries huge visual impact for anyone standing in front of the bar waiting for their drink, and in high-volume venues, this spectacle boosts audience engagement. However, it clashes with contemporary mixology, which focuses on ingredient minimalism and reconnecting—dialoguing—with the guest. On these points, we won't share our own thoughts here; instead, we’ll leave room for Giorgio’s words.
"Anyone who still thinks flair is just 'smoke and mirrors' is stuck in an idea of the bar industry that no longer exists. Anyone who considers flair smoke and mirrors today is simply stuck in the 90s and hasn't looked around. Today, that fluidity means elegance and the proper use of technical movement at the right moment, in the right situation. Mixology is a prerequisite, but technical mastery of movement is what definitively sets us apart from machines. Great cocktails plus high skill make you a bit of a Professional 2.0—which, when you think about it, is what differentiates us from a machine."
Very often, starting with ourselves, we find ourselves judging things we don't know out of sheer bias, frequently appointing ourselves champions of truths we know nothing about.
“There is an absurd prejudice regarding the difficulty of flair compared to "laboratory" mixology. But physical technique requires a level of discipline formulas lack: "It's harder to learn flair than to learn how to do extractions... on one side, it's formulas; on the other, it's training, technique, and so on. It's not about choosing a side, but understanding that study and movement must travel together: 'I will never eliminate flair just as I will never ignore the lab.'"

As we all know—or ought to know—social media platforms aren't designed to measure the depth and "intelligence" (if you'll excuse the word) of content, but rather to maximize dwell time on their channels. How often do you find yourself scrolling Instagram only to realize you've spent 40 minutes (to be generous) on completely meaningless content? So we ask ourselves: where is this race for followers, for the perfect post, for the flawless image leading us? We put this provocative question to Giorgio.
"Social media isn't a stage for egocentrics; it's a tool for surgical positioning. Anyone who stops at surface-level follower counts ignores the dirty work under the ice: 'People are used to talking because they don't know... they have no idea what my background might have been.' Just like training has changed, online platforms have become the first filter to see if this job is a true passion or a flash in the pan. It lets you test the waters with minimal investment, saving on travel and lodging, but it's no substitute for being behind the bar. Arriving in person having already digested the basics means you're already 'at 50% of your educational growth' because you already know your limits. Still, reality doesn't change: 'From that point on, nobody can spare you the grunt work.'"
This strategic vision and his awareness of the pros and cons of the virtual world seem to have been a winning key to achieving what many professionals seek: a relationship with a brand, becoming the face of a brand. This capability becomes evident with "Mammarita," a project moving in the opposite direction of multinationals. Born from the intuition of a student, Aslan Dervish, it relies on a "slow" strategy to avoid burning out the product's identity. On one side stands Italian tradition: an aromatic profile highlighting basil, bergamot, and pepper; on the other, craftsmanship, where every bottle is a unique piece: "All bottles are signed by hand, the sealing wax is applied by hand." Finally, the ultimate slow strategy: a conscious choice to let the value of craftsmanship shine through before industrial production, putting the people behind the glass on display.
"The bottom line is simple: if someone criticizes you for your numbers while you're working with luxury brands, the problem isn't yours. 'It's only right that they stick to criticizing and watching my numbers—because they'll never reach them anyway.'"


