Ford recently announced that it is relaunching the Fiesta as a worldwide brand (see article). I love this naming strategy, but it doesn’t always work. Ford’s justification is two-fold: the name already has some existing equity (albeit, not all positive) and by using one name in multiple markets, they can trim down their marketing expense.

But from a naming consultant’s perspective, they got lucky. Fiesta is one of those words that has near-global awareness. The Spanish word (meaning festival or celebration, from the Latin festum/festa  meaning “feast”) has transcended borders and is now commonly understood by native English speakers (as well as speakers of dozens of other languages). Because the car is targeted at new car buyers (typically a younger demographic), the idea of a celebration ties in nicely with the broader marketing message for the car (again, across geographic borders).

Creating names with such international consistency is tough. Just ask the folks at VW. Can anyone spell Tuoreg? Taureg? Touareg? Or ask the folks at Buick. Who knew that Lacrosse was a Canadian slang term for masturbation? If they had done the linguistic research we offer our clients, they would have known before they launched.

Some of you may want to include the infamous “Nova” in this mix. However, let us dispel the myth once more. Yes,  when literally translated, “no va” would mean “doesn’t go” in Spanish. Yet the car is still sold (quite successfully) in Spanish-speaking countries. This is possible because people don’t usually parse brand names this way. I love the counter-example offered by Snopes.com: would anyone think twice about buying a dinette set that used the brand “Notable”? (Get it?)

Anyway, back to the subject at hand. Kudos to Ford for coming up with (and now relaunching) a brand name that sends the right message to a global audience. If any of you readers out there are looking for a new brand name that functions equally well in multiple international markets, Catchword can help.

We all know the difference between white-collar and blue-collar jobs. But recently I’ve been hearing a lot more about green-collar jobs. I found myself wondering where the term green-collar came from? And, what other colorful collars exist?

Laurel first heard about green-collar jobs on NPR a few weeks ago. I heard John Edwards mention them during his campaign in 2007. In actuality, the term has been used since the late 1970s to refer to jobs in both the environmental and agricultural sectors.

The term green-collar steps away from the traditional metaphor for colorful collars. Blue-collar refers to the actual blue color of industrial uniforms. And white-collar refers to the white business shirts worn by office-types. Whereas green does not directly reference the color of the shirt, as much as the industry itself. How dare the color green brazenly flaunt the rules of this color-scheme, you may ask? Well, hold your criticism-of-the-green for a moment. As it turns out, green was not the first color to break the rules.

Pink-collar was a term originated in the early 1970s to refer to the female-dominated work roles of the time (secretary, waitress, receptionist, etc.). Gold-collar refers to someone with more than a high school education, but without a full college degree who is over-qualified for the job they hold. And grey-collar refers to jobs that require both blue-collar and white-collar responsibilities (and occasionally the post-retirement aged workforce). Pink, gold, grey, and green all deviate from the rules of the blue/white collar scheme Now you can say your apologies to the color green for being so quick to judge…

What I want to know is: In an uber-patriotic country like ours where blue and white are already represented, where’s the red-collar? Maybe red-collar can refer to government jobs. Or is red already too tainted by it’s McCarthy-era ties to communism? What about the creative job market (musicians, artisans, etc.)? Shouldn’t they get a jazzy, eccentric color? Like indigo, perhaps. Or maybe they should be identified by their stereotypical black turtlenecks, hence black-collar. And, should the gay and lesbian workforce claim the rainbow-collar?

I think the collar-system needs more collar-colors. As my own wardrobe would suggest, I’m a big fan of lots of colorful shirts and collars:

I’m a big fan of Richard Wiseman’s Quirkology site - it’s all about psychology and perception and why human beings are so weird. And it’s fun! These are the people who brought you the World’s Funniest Joke and the amazing Color Changing Card Trick video (you really have to watch this one). Their research into jokes, lying, observation, etc. is all based on experiments conducted with average people all over the world.

The latest experiment is about names - personal names, and what they mean to their owners:

Does your first name influence your life? To help find out, Prof Richard Wiseman has teamed up with The Edinburgh International Science Festival to carry out a unique experiment.

It’s a set of six simple questions about your own name, and how you would react and judge people based only on their names. I just took it and I was surprised by my own biases and preconceptions - I had to think hard about why I assigned certain personality traits to certain names. For me, some are certainly based on personal experience (Katie will always be more intelligent than Caroline), but for others - who knows? Why do I think Jack is luckier than Andrew? Note that the experiment is run out of the UK, so there’s a slight leaning toward British names, in my opinion. I did sign up to get the results of the experiment when it’s done.

Go here to take the Name Experiment. It’s fun! It’s science! It Quirkology!

I enjoyed Douglas Quenqua’s piece in Thursday’s NYT on the UNCF “name change”. Very interesting dilemma. (For those of you who don’t want to read the article, the United Negro College Fund just announced it was changing its name, at Landor’s suggestion, to UNCF.)

Of course, as a guy who runs a naming company I was particularly intrigued by the solution they chose. While I completely understand *why* they made the name change, I have to question their final decision. I liken it to the recent name change made by AARP (they also tried to avoid an awkward reference by reverting to their familiar initials).

I see two problems with this tactic. First, as is the case with AARP and “retired persons”, everybody knows what the “N” stands for. Just because they use the initials doesn’t mean they escape the reference. Landor’s last attempt at this ploy was to “rename” Kentucky Fried Chicken KFC. No one was fooled, and the company has recently gone back to the longer, less healthy sounding version of the name. It is amazing to me that people continue to pay Landor huge dollars to recommend such inane solutions.

Second, by switching to the initials, UNCF joins the litany of companies swimming in alphabet soup (NCR, ATT, WWE, etc.). While I don’t think a concocted “naming company name” like Accenture or Agilent would have been appropriate (also the work of Landor), I do think they could have found a name that has more warmth and distinction, while communicating some message of relevance (e.g., equality, support, guidance, etc.). Adopting the initials is a cop out, and may hamper UNCF’s ability to raise funds. They certainly have missed an opportunity to excite their audience. I understand they want to keep their heritage, but that heritage can be bridged to a new name (ask the folks at Altria). Now they sound just like any other big, corporate, enterprise with a cumbersome name. They’ve wasted a wonderful opportunity to instill new life, and new messages into their organization. To borrow their phrase, a name is a terrible thing to waste.

The article also references the struggle faced by the NAACP (maybe they can hire Landor to tell them that they should use their initials too). As a namer, all this name changing is a very poignant reminder not to tie a name to any current buzzword, technology, or (in the case of UNCF and NAACP), politically-correct reference. Names must be able to stand the test of time. What is politically correct today may not be tomorrow.

I’ve been experimenting with Pandora lately, that increasingly popular music matching website otherwise known as the “music genome project”. Pretty cool stuff actually. So far, fairly accurate. It hasn’t once suggested I’d like The Who (sorry sorry - inside joke).

Most people have some idea of who Pandora was, or at least they know something about a box (actually a jar). Size, shape, material unimportant. You just don’t want to open the box. Don’t open that box. Bad inside the box. World of hurt inside the box, all that. I imagine a goodly number people don’t know the whole story, what was inside the box, why opening it would be naughty, etc. Probably doesn’t matter that much. At least in terms of brand names, common understandings and associations with words and ideas are usually more important than complete but lesser-known story details anyway. So I’m not gonna point out all the story DNA the genome project seems to have overlooked. I’m just gonna commend them on having taken the time to explain their interpretation and use of the name. Man, I love it when companies do that.

According to The Music Genome Project:

The name Pandora means “all gifted” in Greek. In ancient Greek mythology, Pandora received many gifts from the Gods, including the gift of music, from Apollo. She was also, as we all know, insatiably curious.
Unlike those Gods of old, however, we celebrate that virtue and have made it our mission to reward the musically curious among us with a never-ending experience of music discovery.
It’s also important to note that at the bottom of Pandora’s box was Hope…

So I don’t think the closing emphasis on that remaining virtue was really necessary, but otherwise I like the interpretation. Sounds like Pandora was really just an amazingly gifted if slightly nosy little girl, not a mankind killer at all (whoops! Sorry).

PS: Note to Pandora. There seems to be some question in the literature about the meaning of the name “Pandora”. One interpretation is that the name means “all-gifted”, but another suggests it means “all-giving” - perhaps an even better interpretation for your brand??

Under the header of product names I’ve never understood is Febreze. It’s a bit risky putting this kind of opinion out there, since P&G has done so well with its line of fabric and air fresheners. (And in fact, I almost like the idea of a grocery-aisle name that isn’t really word play, that isn’t totally logical…)

But really, why FEBreze instead of FABreze? The product’s connection to fabric is so obvious that not going with the Fab- prefix is a little like Windex being named Wandex.

What are the possible merits of Feb? Maybe the folks at P&G were trying to evoke a February breeze? Sure, there’s a shared “b” in Feb Breeze, but it’s such a chilly month. Maybreze is a nicer image.

Then there’s febrile and febricity — having a fever — but I’m pretty sure they weren’t going for that, either.

Febreze actually sort of takes me to pharmaceutical naming, where you might alter a vowel to avoid overpromising. (For example, Rogaine, the hair-growth treatment, is marketed as Regaine outside the U.S.) In this case, fab- might be construed as fabulous, and frowned upon by the FDA. If we were talking about an ingestible drug. Which we’re not.

So maybe it all comes down to trademark, and the need to avoid the product name Fab (the laundry detergent). That makes sense, except we namers usually try to avoid TM conflicts in a less indirect, obtuse, confusing, mystifying way.

I’m just sayin’.

There is yet another article on baby naming called “What’s in a Name?“, by Sam Kean, at the NY Times this week (get the PDF here) - honestly, every other naming article has this title, so editors, THINK OF A NEW ONE, PLEASE. It cites work done by two members of the American Name Society (of which I am a proud member), Alleen and Don Nilsen, around the use of traditional boys’ names for girls and the subsequent drop in use for boys. Here’s a quick take on “unisex” names:

Albert Mehrabian, a psychology professor at U.C.L.A., has studied people’s blink reactions to unisex names. Take Casey. People classify male Caseys as more feminine than Johns or Jacobs and female Caseys as more masculine than Sarahs or Susans. That’s not all bad: masculine names are often associated with success, for instance, which might explain why parents historically chose androgynous names for girls. As for boys, Mehrabian says that today “some traditionally feminine characteristics may be seen as desirable in men, like caring and giving.” Given the desirability of those traits, at least for some, parents may be less shy about naming a boy Brooke, Taylor or Morgan than in previous decades, when the “feminine” connotations of those names might have come at a social cost — the potential loss of status, jobs or friends.

You know what? I don’t think so. I think that as soon as a “boy” name gets used for even a small minority of girls, it will become like unto death for a boy to have it. (In the US, anyway; I’m still amazed that there are men called Vyvyan, Hillary, and Evelyn in the UK.) This is because, for the majority of men, being confused with a woman is the worst thing that can happen. Ever. Women with “successful” (i.e., male) traits = good, while men with “other” (i.e., female) traits = bad. Are there truly unisex names, ones used equally as often for boys as for girls, in the same cultural context? I wonder.

Like most new moms, buying a stroller was top on my list of baby purchases. I wanted something easy to use and most of all, safe and secure for my precious newborn. Working in NYC prior to my impending arrival, I noticed a unique stroller milling about the streets of NYC. From what I could tell, it looked like my dream stroller. However, when I found out the name, Bugaboo, it made me think twice.

“Bugaboo” encompassed everything I would least want my stroller to offer as it means “something that causes fear or worry.” Alternate definitions cite it as a synonym of a bogeyman, “an imaginary monster used to frighten children” (Source, dictionary.com). Not exactly baby-friendly sentiments. I understand that many of us may not be familiar with the term “bugaboo.” However, in my chosen profession as a “namer” I (need to) have an expansive vocabulary and I knew exactly what a “bugaboo” meant.

So what does this tell us with regards to new product naming? Sometimes the most successful names may be ones break through the clutter, that make us a little uncomfortable. For one, they end up being memorable. Second, if it’s not an ultra-common word, it may become synonymous with product. Additionally, these types of name are even more effective when some element of the name is evocative of the product itself; in this case, people may see baby “buggy” in Bugaboo. Another example of this type of name is “Fandango”, an online movie ticket site. The real meaning is a “lively Spanish dance” but people may just see “fan” and associate this with entertainment. In any case, evidently the Bugaboo name seems to work, as parents are willing to spend around $800 for one…obviously it’s not something that “causes fear or worry!”!

Need I say more?

Ok, maybe just a few quick remarks since I rarely blog. And perhaps now my brand name development colleagues, my naming specialist friends, also in the business of naming products and services and developing taglines for companies, will cut me some slack.

Spotted Dick. Mmmm. Spotted Dick. Can’t remember the last time I enjoyed a healthy portion of that tasty English treat. So spongy, so moist, so….dappled. It’s gotta be 10, 12 years now. Way too long. Way, way too long.

Man, I love my Brit friends, but Mama Pajama, don’t you know what “Dick” means?? Yeah, yeah, I know it means a lot of things, and of course it’s short for “Richard”. In fact, Laura, our Client Manager and Catchword’s newest word surgeon, connected me with some alternative meanings. It can refer to a riding whip, an apron, an abbreviation for dictionary, a policeman, and probably a few other things not connected to testicles. But still. It’s a penis. And in this case, a freckled penis. And, despite a wonderfully rich English history, probably not an appropriate name for a food product. Interestingly, I don’t think it’s the word “Dick” that I find most offensive. It’s the totality of the name – the qualifier, “Spotted” – that evokes the undeniable, vividly clear image of a, well, you know: A FRECKLED PENIS! I read that the recipe, like most recipes, has evolved over the years, since the 19th Century when the pudding was conceived. Suggestion: let it continue to evolve. Please. If it were my kitchen, I’d start by removing the raisins or currants, the ingredients that give it it’s “spots”. Then I’d change the pudding to something like, well, I don’t know, maybe I wouldn’t change the pudding. But I’d call it “PUDDING”, and leave it at that. Heinz Microwavable Sponge Pudding. Mmm…pudding. Now that sounds appetizing.

I was watching tv the other night and happened to tune in for one of Comcast’s commercials for their TriplePlay service. Most amusing was the coined product name they came up with to jokingly refer to the use of tv, phone, and internet all at the same time: televisiphonernetting. I love it and I’m going to use it as often as possible. I think it’s far more fun than “TriplePlay.” In fact, it’s so popular that the name has already found its way into the Urban Dictionary.