There are some brands that linger in your memory because you’re eternally twelve years old, and this is one:

(Photo from Wikipedia).

Yes, Pschitt, a French citrus-flavored soda, has enchanted me since I first saw it in 1978. I’ve even blogged about it in the past.

So, following on the trend of product naming that perhaps might be, shall we say, unsettling, I offer you this:

Pschitt skincare. Or let me clarify – Pschitt Magic.

This certainly offers an excellent textbook example of what dilution by blurring might look like, but my bigger issue is that of the term’s significance in English. We trademark lawyers are always cautious about proposed marks that might mean something unsavory in a foreign language, and I’m surprised Garancia’s marketing team thought it was okay to sanction a mark that suggests to an English-speaking consumer that her treatment is nothing but “magic shit.” Between shit on my face and perfume that smells like shoes, I’m so far not seduced by French branding!

 

I love wordplay.  I wouldn’t call myself a master, but dilettante? Sure.  So one thing I enjoyed observing in Paris was how the French employ multi-layered and even multilingual wordplay to create product and business names.  This shop was on our way to the bus:

Took me two days to figure it out: Harry Cover?  Well, if you pronounce it with a French accent, it’s haricots verts, or green beans.  Great name for a produce shop, and the figues were delicious.

Then there’s my kids’ favorite non-patisserie snack – Pom’Potes.  Where do I begin?  Well, there’s pomme, which means apple, compote which is the same in English, and pote, which is slang for “pal.”  Put it all together and you get a name that’s cute and catchy.

Not a play on words, but a product name in which my daughters reveled?  Pschitt, a light and refreshing lemon-lime soda.  Click on that link and you’ll see that its makers realize what an entertaining name it is too.