Overly stressed

Kahlú-a #1: “MUY, not “MOO-ey.”

Don’t know why this Mexican coffee-flavored liqueur adds a stress mark on “muy” in its “drive responsibly” blurb in the left margin. Unlike tu/tú, mi/mí or aun/aún (among others), there is not another word in Spanish with which to confuse it, and thus no need for an accent to differentiate the two. In fact, the stressed “u” here leads to a two-syllable word that rhymes with…uh-oh…“gooey.”

Also, while the brand name is correctly accented below the “DELICIOSO” ribbon (I know, hard to see here), the words “fábrica” and “café” are not. When a Spanish word is capitalized, Spanish speakers often do not use written accents where they would normally be required. However, since KAHLÚA is all caps, I would expect to see FÁBRICA and CAFÉ. Bad Spanish or Spanglish, at least it’s not affecting deliciousness.

True North

Geodetically yours.

With a name like this, how could almond clusters go wrong? What? An anonymous suggestion box card says “Lose the radiating almonds; they cheapen the nuclear effect at center stage.” I, myself, like the vertical brown “compass arrow.”

Bear-tested, not bear-proof.

Follow the (imminently) yellow quilt roll.

Cute ad for what it leaves out. The competitor is not named…only referred to as the “ultra rippled brand.” (I take it that weaves are better than ripples.) Granted, some responsibility lies in the hands of the user…how skilled a person is with this tool. If you were new to the brand, the illustration is the first place to get a grip, given that there is no mention at all of the product or product category, or anything that approximates it. This ad is successful only if you have previous knowledge of the Charmin brand, its competition and a good grasp of English. Otherwise, you are just a babe in the woods. The domain: enjoythego.com. Hilarious. Gotta give P&G a hand (a clean one) for making going fun.

Desperate Housewares

Second-hand with first-hand awareness.

It makes my day when I stumble upon verbal quirkiness. This store was called something else before, something I can’t quite remember. Will I forget it now? Despite the risk of being so closely tied to another brand, given the goods sold here, the name is superb and will have legs longer than the show or the ladies themselves.

Take a guess…an…

The thinking cap is on.

 

Educated Guess.
Yummier than science.

This winery saves the
fullness for the wine,
and keeps the formulas,
well, mostly to itself.
A twofer in the source:
Roots Run Deep.
Chemistry, indeed.

Hey, bartender, pour me
another glass Guess.

Sip to my ‘roo, my darlin’

Penguin envy.

Just looking at this happy bird cools me down. Nothing like incorporating these cute little creatures into your design to coax kids to drink what could be directly had from the tap, filtered or not. The name incorporated into the little guy’s eyes is clever. (Does that make him four-eyes?) The portability helps, but it’s not refillable.

Which brings to mind public water fountains. They must be lonely without all that gossip. And so quaint. Yet they are the best way to quench your thirst or wake yourself up with a splash on the face…when you can find one.

The whole bottled water culture is so over. Most is brought to you from the same public source via the good ole faucet. Yet, the continuing brand proliferation in this category never ceases to amaze me. In fact, I was involved in the industry in the early- to mid-1990’s, when I sought out U.S. distributorship for a prestigious Catalan producer of bottled carbonated mineral water. They were ahead of the times. It’s a shame; they’d have made inroads had management been more interested in carving out a niche space with spa clients (which is where their product best fit) or sat out things until the domestic market here became receptive to their offering.

Emergency landing deplaning practice.

Reed Hasty Pudding

Need more be said? Don’t mind me, Harvard. Just playin’ with words here. And a family name.

Acerola anyone?

Back (roads) stage pass.

It doesn’t take much to get me out the door and exploring. Especially the storied Route 66, a lot of which I have covered…and more than once. I love the name, logo, tagline and shape of the can.

While not a nutritional label reader, I was curious (and all signs pointed to the side of the can). That little detour is where I learned of a new fruit: acerola. Didn’t sound like anything I wanted to pop in my mouth, let alone sip.

Lo and behold, it’s none other than the West Indian, Barbados or Puerto Rican cherry and related to the hawthorn, which the Chinese eat along with their tea. To my etymological surprise, the fruit name is rooted in Arabic al-zu’rur (al- = the + zu’rur = medlar) by way of Spanish. Yet the medlar itself is actually related to (but much smaller than) apples, pears and quinces and has an amazing story of its own. Bletted are its ways.

Smells like ‘ween Spirit

JdelP, que descanse en paz.

If the Internet could bring you and me a little satis-olfaction, I’d share a whiff of this at-first-smell, bizarrely named eau de toilette. It helps to realize that “Halloween” is a hard word for native Spanish-speakers to pronounce. The letter “h” is silent for them, and the “w” is for borrowed or foreign words. For such an audience, the latter lends an exotic air to the experience, but it is harsh-sounding all the same. You see, in trying to approximate the English “h,” one often over-compensates for it, and the results are never pleasant to the ears.

I turned to the late Spanish designer himself  (yes, he just died in August) in virtual splendor to let us in on the rationale behind the name. Not far into my recon, I learn that this fragrance has been around since 1997 and is but one offering in Jesús del Pozo’s Halloween product line (the latest being HWN Fever), among 11 total house creations. I see where the creators are coming from, but the name still doesn’t match up with what comes out of the bottle. It is neither seductive nor bewitching, but, heck, maybe my nose is a bit off. I prefer his flowing sweeps of fancy scattered across almost four decades. Solid colors, draping fabrics, enveloping volume. Now that’s what I call seductive and bewitching.

The Flying Paprikas

Shimmy, shimmy, shake.

I bought this for the logo, font style and the brand name. Having worked for a Barcelona-based trade development organization for five years, I’m partial to Spanish brands. This is mild paprika, which in Spanish is pimentón dulce (dulce literally means “sweet”).

Turns out this company from Alicante (southeastern Spain) has been flying since 1918! They took off with a brand of food colorings called “El Aeroplano,” which also means airplane, but that term is less modern for the winged machine we know today. La Cadena (chain) is their brand of food coloring sachets, whereas saffron, paprika, other spices, seasonings, nuts and herbal teas are branded El Avión.

Slow to reach altitude, however, is the website, which had been circling the tarmac since 2009. Too bad it’s no longer got any content, because they could have really covered some ground in reviving the beautiful vintage packaging labels and promotional posters for saffron from the 1930’s and 1940’s.