On our kitchen counter, Mr. Magpie has laid out rows of seed packets. I delight in their evocative names: Scarlet Nantes carrots, Rosita eggplants, Jimmy Nardello’s Italian Sweet peppers, Grandma Hadley’s lettuce, Green Arrow shelling peas (dwarf). The flavors, their intended participation in select recipes, suggest themselves. I learned that the USDA enforces standards for the naming conventions. One guide for seed companies notes: “Although USDA discourages it, you may use descriptive terms in variety names as long as such terms are not misleading.” I found a strange antiestablishment pleasure in thinking that the USDA might prefer names like “Romaine Batch 22,” but some farmer scrawled “Grandma Hadley’s Lettuce” on the line. The slightly worldlier version of myself imagines a table of marketers debating the pros and cons of such a name — “no, Grandma Hadley feels more rustic and traditional. Let’s go with that.” In either case: somebody, either brassbound or suave in approach, pushed back on the “discouragement of descriptive terms.”
I am aware I might be over-egging the pudding, but the names on these seedling packets reminded me of the transformative power of language, the way it can negotiate, stand up, provoke, invoke, talk back by virtue of its own expression.
There is a phrase: “Change your language and change your thoughts.” When I first heard it, I was learning French, and I marveled at the way learning a second language taught me a lot about the delta between my culture and that of the French, and also invited new trickles and curlicues of semantic thought. The fact that we use apostrophes for the possessive (Jen’s shoes) versus the more overwrought but elegant formula of “the shoes of Jennifer” (“les chaussures de Jen”) in French often made me linger a bit longer on sentence construction. I’d sometimes find myself, in English, thinking “the shoes of Jen” vs. “Jen’s shoes” and preferring the gentler, more fluid flow. (Though I would never have actually written it as such in English — I am a fastidious rule follower in most lanes of life, but especially the grammatical.)
But I think, too, the phrase applies to many different contexts. A few years ago, I asked: What does your internal voice sound like? I’d observed that, while running, I often spoke to myself pejoratively, e.g., “hurry up!!!” versus “you got this.” I made a conscious effort to change my own tone.
Today, I am thinking about the way I label things in my own life, and how those namings invoke mood. (Inspired, of course, by “Grandma Hadley’s lettuce,” and the attendant vision of a slow rocking chair on the front porch of a white farmhouse with a charming garden out back, a ticking striped apron, and tender green lettuce leaves laced with green goddess dressing.) What would happen if “bedtime” was renamed something else? The morning rush took on its own evocative phrasing? I’m not talking anything wild here; could be something as simple as “end of day wind-down” or “morning hum.” Mr. Magpie and I have a regular segment of our evening that we refer to as “STPs,” or “Shoop Talking Points.” I occasionally have items tick-listed on a notepad for discussion, but sometimes they are more ad hoc. The style is informed by our many years of running businesses together, but the subject is familial, trivial: update on the HVAC issue, birthday party plans for our daughter, should we sign her up for soccer?, etc. Incidentally, I like the bristly comportment of the title, because it reminds me that household admin is no slouchy, soft thing. It is a lot of work, and we treat it as such, dividing and conquering, moving briskly from subject to subject with action items delegated, etc. We are not overly formal about it, but the naming — the mood it invokes — is generative for us.
Writing this musing out on paper has led me to wonder about configuring my day around named, designated “email checkpoints,” because the flood of inbound email routinely frays my productivity. I wonder whether cordoning that activity off into specific parts of my day and labeling as such on my calendar (possibly with a chirpy kind of title) would be helpful.
What say you, Magpies? Is there any part of your day that could benefit from a re-naming?
Post-Scripts.
+More on the architecture of daily life.
+On the perpetual quest to live in the present moment.
Shopping Break.
+SEA vibes for under $170.
+I cannot believe how popular this Zara dress for girls I shared last week has been! So cute for Easter/spring, and a great price. This $23 dress (also from Zara) is also precious for the season ahead.
+All my favorite Zara picks here.
+Into this tan striped colorway for one of my favorite tees. (Detailed review here.)
+Did you know you can buy Gap items via Amazon Prime now?! Amazing. They don’t appear to have the full inventory, but classics like their popular “Big Shirt” are now just a day away. I just ordered a new pair of these jeans for micro. I love their denim for little boys. Much sturdier than pairs I’ve purchased from Target (Cat and Jack) and Zara but not much more expensive.
+This $59 blouse is giving Emerson Fry.
+Loving this blue floral dress for Easter.
+This jumpsuit is just SO chic. I have a few similar utility/boiler room style jumpsuits that I like to layer over turtlenecks and finish with polished ballet flats. Sometimes like to throw a scarf on to soften the look.
+Would also look good with some on-trend sneaks like these.
+I did order myself this cozy sherpa fleece. Such fun colors.
+Loving all the pieces in the Sezane x SEA collab, but especially this (or jumpsuit variation).
+Home favorites.
Oh my goodness the mini Gucci bucket bag is just fab!! Thanks for sharing… might have to treat myself bc perfect for spring!
SO good! Yes!
This lovely essay nestled in the back of my mind all day. It’s true, the way that language can negotiate. Oftentimes, I actively try to avoid reading the names (of paint colors, fabric swatches, etc.) because I question whether I am more drawn to the labeling than the actual item itself.
I totally get that! I am keenly aware of how receptive I am to the suggestion of language. I was thinking about this (relative to this essay, I guess) while listening to Fleetwood Mac’s “Tusk,” one of my FAVORITE songs of theirs. Every time I listen to it, I immediately start daydreaming about a crazy movie plot line. I even think of the actors who would play the roles, and the general arc of the story. The song and its words are SO suggestive to me. Funny how that can transport you!
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Your views on language are always so thought-provoking, particularly how the conventions of a language reflects culture. I am reminded of so many difficult-to-translate words from my native language (Tagalog), which I only consciously thought about when I moved to the US and would be in conversations with English speakers — I’d find myself thinking/saying, “we have the perfect word for it but I can’t translate it!”
On re-naming — for me it’s not so much a part of my day (although I’m thinking on that too), but how marketing is *everything* with young children. I remember when I was about to slice a blood orange for my daughter, I told her that it would be a “surprise orange” because we don’t know if it will be orange or pink or red inside. She was tickled by this and readily tried a blood orange — which, at something like 1 1/2 or 2, is one of those small wins. To this day (she’s 5), she still refers to those other non-navel orange varieties like cara cara or blood oranges as “surprise oranges”.
This is SO apt, Mia. 100%. We are careful to refer to fish generically, as “fish” because saying “scallops” or “monkfish” will often freak them out. “Fish, like what’s on the inside of your fish sticks you love.” Etc. AHHH, it drives me wild but it so necessary. The “surprise orange” example is charming, though. So sweet 🙂
xx