Names in the wild(ish)

Some names I’ve noticed lately, for better or for worse, on my travels in the real and virtual worlds.

I spent a few days in Chicago in late April, where I spotted these Ostrim “sports nutrition meat snacks” on display at a Freshii quick-serve “wellness” restaurant. (Freshii is worth a brief sidebar. The company, which was founded in 2005 and is based in Toronto, has a peppy online presence and a brand-enforcing fondness for double-i’s: A limited-time menu special is called Biiblos – no, I don’t know what that means – and the store payment card is called Monii. “Let’s transfer energii!” chirps the copy.)

 

 

As for Ostrim, as far as I can tell, the product name is a blend of ostrich and trim, probably because the original “meat snacks” were made from ostrich. Today, though – 22 years after the company’s founding in Greensburg, Pennsylvania – Ostrim snacks are equally as likely to contain beef, elk, chicken, or turkey. Moral: Don’t box yourself in with a name that can’t grow with your company.

Also: Consider how your name might be misinterpreted.

Sounds like bone support and weight loss all in one - with surprise ostrich.

— Jessica Stone Levy (@BeautyMarks) April 28, 2018

 

 

I don’t recall seeing On-Cor frozen foods before a recent visit to Grocery Outlet, where discontinued brands and packaging gasp their dying breaths.

 

“No frills, no fancy. Just really, really good food.”

This is such a corny name – it’s On-Cor like encore, get it? – that I kind of love it.

 

On-Cor was founded in 1932, when corny, Frenchy brand names were perfectly cromulent.

Seeing On-Cor provoked a long-buried memory of a defunct chain of cafeterias in Los Angeles whose name was spelled Ontra but always pronounced on-tray, because you got your entrée (and everything else) on a tray, haha. And now I’m recalling another L.A. restaurant from my childhood – this one French, or French-ish – that was called Robaire’s. Easy French for stupid Americans! They might as well have called it L’Idiot. 

From stupid French to stupid Latin: Grocery Outlet was also selling eight-packs of ávitāe.

 

 

Naturally, they have to tell you how to pronounce it. (Is the name supposed to mean “to life”? Or is it a reference to aqua vitae, which translates to “water of life”? But aqua vitae actually is a very strong brandy, so maybe not.) Also naturally, those diacritical marks show up only in the packaging; it’s just too much trouble to reproduce them anywhere else.

 

Let’s hope that Avitae ended up at Grocery Outlet because of a well-deserved rebranding effort.

While we’re in gratuitous-accent-land, let’s spare some sympathy for nügg [sic], whose mission “is to deliver top quality, natural face and lip masks at pocket-friendly prices, in pocket-friendly packaging.”

 

Face masks are a big beauty trend right now, and nügg apparently is derived from “nüggets of beauty.” Unfortunately, the first thing “nügg” suggested to me was “high-quality marijuana,” because that’s what the slang term “nug” means. (There are Nug dispensaries here in California, where cannabis is legal.)

Finally, one more from Chicago: a food truck called Mr. Quiles.

 

 

The “Mexican food” descriptor and the jalapeño “I” are tip-offs that it isn’t pronounced kwiles, to rhyme with styles. No, this is a truncation of chilaquiles (from Nahuatl chīlāquilitl, a dish made with cut-up tortillas covered with mole or other sauce), so it must be KEEL-ace. As far as I know, nobody calls chilaquiles “quiles.” (Hat tip to Mike Pope, who checked with some Mexican relatives: nope.) Also, Mr. Quiles sells only tacos; nary a chilaquil on the menu. So is this name deceptive or distinctive? I hope a trademark lawyer will weigh in.

Comments

[Jessica]

Two trademark lawyers agree: Mr. Quiles isn’t deceptive. It is, however, profoundly disappointing, because chilaquiles are the best.

[Dan Freiberg]

"Ostrim" sounds like something spelled backwards. On the other hand, so does "Mirtso."

[Michel]

‘I hope a trademark lawyer will weigh in’ really? How about you ask instead of barging in like that? By that way, Quiles is our last name so there’s that. Cheers