What Sort of Person Would Drink Hendrick's Gin When?

9 Dec 2025 | Gin Distilleries | by Tamsin Blackwood

People don’t drink Hendrick’s Gin because they’re thirsty. They drink it because they want to feel something-something strange, beautiful, a little bit magical. If you’ve ever seen someone garnish their gin with a cucumber slice and a rose petal, you’ve met one of them. This isn’t about alcohol. It’s about ritual. About storytelling. About choosing the odd path when everyone else takes the easy one.

The Curious Crowd

Hendrick’s doesn’t market to age groups. It doesn’t care if you’re 22 or 62. What it cares about is whether you’re curious. The brand calls them ‘the curious crowd’-people who don’t just drink gin, they seek out the unusual. They’re the ones who pause before ordering, glance at the bottle’s apothecary design, and ask, ‘What’s this one?’ They’re not looking for the cheapest gin on the shelf. They’re not looking for the most popular. They’re looking for the one that makes the bartender raise an eyebrow.

This isn’t a demographic. It’s a mindset. And it shows up in how they drink it. You won’t find Hendrick’s drinkers at a sports bar chugging shots. You’ll find them at a dimly lit cocktail lounge, slowly sipping a Hendrick’s Highball with cucumber and a hint of tonic. The ritual matters. The garnish isn’t decoration-it’s part of the story. The rose petal? It’s not just pretty. It’s a signal. It says, ‘I know this isn’t normal. And I love that.’

When Do They Drink It?

There’s no set time. But there are clear moments.

On a date night, when they want to impress without trying too hard. The bottle looks like something out of a Victorian scientist’s lab. The cucumber slice? It’s unexpected. It sparks conversation. ‘Why cucumber?’ they’ll ask. And then you get to tell them about Miss Lesley Gracie, the master distiller who first added rose and cucumber to gin back in 1999. That’s not just a drink. That’s a moment.

At a creative gathering-art openings, book clubs, indie film nights. Hendrick’s drinkers are the ones who bring the bottle. They don’t just show up. They curate the vibe. They know that gin with rose petals doesn’t belong at a tailgate party. It belongs in a room with jazz playing softly, where people talk about dreams, books, or the meaning of color.

During limited-edition releases. The ‘Cabinet of Curiosities’ series-like FLORA ADORA or NEPTUNIA-doesn’t just drop. It arrives like a secret letter. Enthusiasts track release dates. They camp out at pop-ups. They trade bottles. These aren’t just new flavors. They’re collectibles. Each one tells a different story: one tastes like a summer storm, another like an old library. People don’t buy these to get drunk. They buy them to own a piece of the weird.

Why Not Other Gins?

Compare Hendrick’s to Tanqueray or Beefeater. Those are classic. Reliable. They’re the gray suit of gin. Hendrick’s? It’s the velvet coat with mismatched buttons. It doesn’t want to be the default. It wants to be the conversation starter.

When someone orders a Bombay Sapphire, they’re choosing tradition. When they order Hendrick’s, they’re choosing a mood. It’s not about the alcohol content. It’s about the experience. The rose isn’t there for flavor alone-it’s there to make you pause. To make you notice. To make you feel like you’ve stepped into a storybook.

That’s why Hendrick’s drinkers rarely switch. Once you’ve had it with cucumber and a petal, other gins feel flat. Not because they’re bad. But because they don’t ask you to do anything but drink. Hendrick’s asks you to wonder. To imagine. To smile.

The Experience Beyond the Bottle

Hendrick’s doesn’t rely on ads. It relies on moments.

In 2016, they opened the ‘Emporium’-a traveling pop-up that turned bars into wonderlands. Think taxidermy rabbits with wings. Antique medical tools on display. Costumed performers whispering riddles. Over 15,000 people walked through it across six U.S. cities. No one went just for the gin. They went because they wanted to feel like they’d stumbled into Alice’s Wonderland. And they left with photos. And hashtags. And stories.

That’s the secret. Hendrick’s doesn’t sell gin. It sells the feeling of being slightly out of place-and loving it. The bottle is a prop. The gin is the script. The drinker? They’re the main character.

Who Isn’t It For?

Let’s be honest. Not everyone gets it.

If you think gin should taste like juniper and nothing else, Hendrick’s will confuse you. If you drink to get drunk fast, you’ll think it’s too expensive and too slow. If you don’t care about aesthetics, stories, or rituals-you’ll probably skip it.

And that’s fine. Hendrick’s doesn’t want you. The brand knows that trying to please everyone turns a unique voice into background noise. As their marketing director once said: ‘The need to cater to everyone’s needs ends up causing the target audience to become simply audience-and that, ironically, is a downgrade.’

Hendrick’s drinkers don’t need to convince anyone. They just need to find their people. And when they do, they’ll raise their glass-not to toast, but to say: ‘You get it, too, don’t you?’

The Future of the Unusual

Gen Z drinks less alcohol than previous generations. But when they do, they want quality. Transparency. Meaning. Hendrick’s fits perfectly. It’s not just a drink-it’s a statement. A choice. A whisper of rebellion against mass-produced everything.

The brand is already testing non-alcoholic versions. Not to replace the gin, but to extend the experience. Because the point isn’t the alcohol. It’s the ritual. The curiosity. The wonder.

So if you’re wondering who drinks Hendrick’s Gin? It’s the person who still believes magic exists-in a bottle, in a petal, in a quiet moment between sips. It’s the person who chooses wonder over convenience. And they’re not waiting for permission to be different.