by Eli Altman and Alex Zavlaris
Our office is right down the street from a Whole Foods. Whenever we’re short on time for lunch, we always seem to find ourselves there. Having spent tons of time meandering through their aisles, we’ve seen all sorts of products. So we figured we would take a shot at sifting through the gluten-free, herbal, vegan bazaar that is Whole Foods on a non-scientific quest for the best and worst named products.
The Good
Mighty Leaf: Mighty Leaf makes me think of a superhero in a tea bag. Maybe I’m just a fan of Mighty Mouse, but you should never underestimate anti-oxidants. While most teas sound traditional and medicinal, Mighty Leaf feels fun and supernatural. The tea leaf becomes the hero, which gets across ‘natural’ without being descriptive or predictable.
Arrogant Bastard Ale: The slogan on the bottle says it all: “You’re Not Worthy!” Arrogant Bastard Ale is not for the average light beer drinking, turkey sandwich eating adult. To drink Arrogant Bastard Ale you have to drink like an Arrogant Bastard. Drink loud, drink hard and remember, because your beer has a funny name with a word you weren’t allowed to say until you got into high school, you’re better than everyone around you. Cheers!
Mary’s Gone Crackers:No, this isn’t the name of an anti-psychotic herbal remedy for menopausal women, (although that would be quite funny). Mary’s Gone Crackers is the cute and clever name of a quaint little company that sells gluten-free crackers. I tip my hat off to anyone who can make me laugh when it comes to something as boring as gluten-free snack foods. Well done Mary’s Gone Crackers, well done.
Tiger Tiger: Because one tiger is never enough. This brand of spicy Indian puppodums has a name that’s fun to say and full of energy. The earliest use of the phrase is a William Blake poem from 1794: “Tyger Tyger burning bright. In the forests of the night: What immortal hand or eye. Could frame thy fearful symmetry? …” Since 1794, Tiger Tiger has also been the name of three bands, a British nightclub chain and a few songs and stories. For the record, we’re also fans of spelling tiger, tyger.
Ciao Bella Gelato: A name is at its best when it sounds good to say and it feels good to hear. Literally meaning “Goodbye beautiful,” the phrase Ciao Bella may be a little bit clichéd, but it creates an image of an Italian paradise, where the weather is warm and the treats are cold–a place of perpetual vacation. That’s the feeling I want when I eat ice cream, or rather, Gelato. Maybe you’ll say “ciao bella,” when you regretfully close the freezer door to prevent yourself from downing a pint in one sitting.
The Bad
Three Senses Gourmet: It’s a gourmet dessert product, so why am I standing in front of the freezer like an idiot trying to figure out which three senses this product is addressing? Going out on a limb, I’m guessing they’re referring to taste, smell and sight. I realize that the way food looks, smells and tastes is important; but who are these people to say what senses are, and are not, important? Maybe I enjoy the texture of my food, or the sound it makes as it cooks. Am I abnormal? Am I wrong to think that good food isn’t exclusive to only three senses? The concept here isn’t terrible, but the execution of the name is half baked.
J/Â/S/Ö/N Power Smile: While one might think that Jason invented an electric toothbrush or high-powered anti-depressant, Power Smile is actually a natural line of toothpaste and mouthwash. I think they’re trying to convince consumers that a natural product can be powerful. This is a good idea, but they’re coming on a little strong. Also, I’ve never been so unsure of how to pronounce ‘Jason’. I know it’s meant to be cute, but most Americans don’t know what to do with an umlaut.
Crispy Cat: Crispy Cat is a line of ‘organic candy bars’ from Ashville, North Carolina. Since they started production, the population of feral cats in the eastern Carolina region has been decimated. While I might have invented that last bit, calling your food product Crispy Cat makes people think of cats in ovens. Even if you read the back and only find kosher, vegan and organic ingredients, it doesn’t mean that the thought of your childhood pet in bar form doesn’t cross your mind. An organic candy bar is a pretty good idea, but the name doesn’t do much to help the cause.
Chocolate Smooth Move Herbal Stimulant Laxative Tea: Congratulations good people of Chocolate Smooth Move for not dancing around the issue of what you are selling. This product can be called anything but ambiguous. However, it’s the seven word name along with the image conjured up by chocolate tea that I find disturbing. First the phrase “Chocolate Smooth Move.” Is it implying…you know…a fast um, movement that is uh… chocolaty? And then: “Chocolate Tea.” Does that sound appetizing (or visually pleasing) to anyone? I love both chocolate and tea, but the combination sounds awful. Though I appreciate the bluntness of the title, this may be another example of a product name that reveals just a little bit too much about what it’s for.
Let’s do…Organic: Let’s do…jumping jacks. Let’s do…a philosophy course. Let’s do…meth. No, wait, I’m having an epiphany–let’s do…organic! While ‘Let’s do organic’, would be a totally plausible name, the ellipses (…) adds a degree of uncertainty which makes you think that they, Edward & Sons, actually had no idea what they wanted to do. ‘Doing organic’ is fine by me, but you might want the people who are buying your products to think that you’re making them on purpose.