I cannot believe that after six and a half years of dog ownership I only just figured out the genesis of this product name:
Kudos, however belatedly.
Many years ago, I encountered (and am desperately sorry I cannot remember where) the charming phrase “lying around like a lox.” Anyone who’s seen a full side of lox will find the phrase beautifully evocative. I then extrapolated from that the coinage “loxin’ around the house,” something I do a lot of, often with dogs in tow.
Well, a recent visit to Ulta brought me another variation on the theme:
That’s right, snoxin. You’re loxin’? You’re snoozin? You’re both right – you’re SNOXIN!
A visit to the indeed labs (and despite the fancy smooshed “i” and “n” the URL is “indeedlabs.com”) website offers a wealth of other marks to probe, including “Matrixyl 3000 … [with] messenger molecules, Matrikines” and “SYN-AKE … an effective wrinkle smoothing compound”; re the latter, is it short for “synapse ache” or am I just falling into an ingredient name-generation syn-ake pit? See what I did there? Oy. As for Matrikines, that definitely rings of sci-fi and not science to me – perhaps a tribe of female supercows?
Fun fact about “snoxin” as a name? When you say it out loud while shopping at Ulta with your teenaged daughter, you will dissolve into hysterics and people will think you’re crazy.
In any event, would you like a visual aid to better grasp what I now conceive of as snoxin? Because snow’s coming again, and I’m sure we’re going to be back at it soon.
So I kind of like this Isle of Dogs product line scheme and the fact that they use a descriptive term for each entry in the line. But I’m sorry, we live in Colorado, and this one just cracked us right up:
Nancy, as no one will be surprised to hear, always does an excellent job of pointing out just which portmanteau names and brands are elegant, and which are clumsy. And “chop-and-jam” is an excellent way to describe this clunky one, which combines “veterinary” and “ethical” to form nothing at all elegant:
I feel like I’m lisping the word “vesicle” – which is not a word I use all that often.
But why the vet bag, you ask?
Here’s why – meet Pippin:
I’ll endure a few lousy portmanteaus (-teaux?) for his cuddles.
Already it’s a scorcher, especially back east where my kids are at camp. But I’ve got people all over the country braving the heat to leave their air-conditioned cars to snag me photos of entertaining shop names. This one’s from Bethesda, MD:
Dog stuff and a French pun? Love it!
Can someone please help me out with this one? I’m having a bit of difficulty here:
It’s a pet food/stuff brand that I found at Sprouts. I see from probing around that the brand name is the title of an Avett Brothers song (You may recognize it better by the refrain “Brooklyn, Brooklyn, take me in.” Or not.) The company’s website makes it even more complicated by saying “We’re ‘I and love and you.'” To me it sounds like reading a teenager’s text message out loud.
My verdict: as a song title, “I and love and you” is clunky enough; as a brand name, it’s just confusing.
(And yes, I’ve used this post title before. But the wisdom of Lucille Bluth cannot be invoked often enough.)
We need more snow, but that didn’t stop us from heading to the mountains for the MLK weekend. Some good skiing, some good dining (mostly thanks to yours truly – try this for a crowd-pleaser), and some interesting branding.
Just hear those sleigh bells jingling … It’s the “All Wrapped Up” December Birchbox delivery, and I appreciate its celebratory yet non-denominational enthusiasm – i.e., the accompanying card is not red and green with holly on it.
With all this doggy recovery, I’m not getting out much. I have to keep a close watch on the dog to prevent her from jumping, so unless I confine her to the unbearable hell of her crate, I stay at home.
So what William Grimes in the NY Times doesn’t ask is this: Are the wines with these rude names worth drinking? I guess I’ll have to do the dirty work. If the “bitch category,” as he phrases it, actually has some good wines to offer, I’ll throw my hat in the ring, or tip my glass, or whatever metaphor needs mixing. If not, I’ll just stick with this bitch:
My toy poodle hasn’t been featured recently in these pixels (hey, I can’t really say “in these pages,” now, can I?) but she’s always either on my mind or at my feet. I recently let my daughters take a stab assisting me with Ladybrain shopping at Incredible Wine & Spirits, one of our wine shopping mainstays. In loving tribute to our Reggie, they quickly zeroed in on this one:
My husband and I have been married for 18 years. He is a trademark litigator, while I do trademark prosecution. We speak each other’s unspoken language . . . fluently. (1)
(1) Jackson Browne’s song, by the way, is really not about lawyers at all, but it’s a great song.
I’m a big fan of good (and not-so-good) magazine titles. Having a dog has broadened my horizons in many ways, not the least of which has been exposure to a new world of naming.
See? I knew the minute I mentioned my InStyle subscription mentioned my InStyle subscription it’d mysteriously terminate. So now I just have to score the stuff on the street, or at least at Snappy Nails, my salon of choice.
The coincidence of spring break and Passover brought us home to Mt. Kisco, NY for a few days.
(Mt. Kisco town hall on a much sunnier day than when we were there; photo thanks to Google Maps).
While we were there the girls went to their grandma’s hair salon for trims; next door is a doggie day care called “Reining Cats and Dogs.” And that was quite an apt name, as the rain was relentless.
A grand time was nonetheless had by all; best wishes for a happy Pesach. We will finish the break in New Mexico, thus having covered three “New” states (York, Jersey and Mexico) in one vacation, an accomplishment only a geek could love.
Apologies for being such a bad blogger. I have been consecrating puppy naptime to both client work and, as usual, laundry.
Two branding-related thoughts since the canine incursion into our household, however:
(1) Two friends recommended the dog food brand Royal Canin. Okay, fine, but how do you pronounce “canin”? Like “canine” in English, or as if the word were French? Or “ca-neen”? I am deeply troubled by this; still, since Reggie likes it fine, I will continue to buy it and will try to turn off my overactive brain.
(2) Reggie came to us with an intestinal bug that required treatment with a drug called Panacur. Last I checked my dictionary, “cur” was a derogatory term for an aggressive dog. I’m at a loss for any further etymological detail about this product name (panacea + cure comes to mind, but why for this?); am I the only one who thinks it’s slightly offensive? I mean, can you imagine an analogous pharmaceutical name for humans? Beneschmuck? Aidadick? Am I missing something? I plead sleep deprivation, so it’s definitely possible I’ve missed something in my daily torpor.
And now, said cute puppy with her favorite toy. No, not me.