Do you have an unusual name?

I don’t. Not now at least. My name is Amy. Quite common here on the rock, but in the 80s, when I was still living in cold, grey Belgium, my name was considered quite unusual. Throughout primary and secondary school it was butchered into a series of horrible-sounding variants, both in spoken and written language. In Italy my friends found it virtually impossible to write and pronounce my name, so over there I’m still known as Emi. I even have a Facebook friend who writes to me using Emi. Does she realise my actual name is right there, above her message? At university – I went to a business school that attracted quite a few foreign students – things got a little better, but my name wasn’t spelled and pronounced 100% correctly until I moved to the rock. Amen.

When I translate texts I ALWAYS check and double-check names. To me the source text is not a holy-grail document that shouldn’t be altered. If there’s a mistake in it, I’ll correct it and let the client know. Isn’t that only logical? Unfortunately I’ve come to realise that’s not standard practice. In my six years as a proofreader I’ve rarely come across a text in which errors were corrected. I’ve worked with some of the best translators on the market, who can produce top-notch translations at the speed of light, but even they refuse to make that small effort and google proper names.

It’s a touchy subject for me, probably because it defined my childhood. I’ve always been so incredibly proud of my name. I love the fact that it’s international, short and sweet. It means “the beloved” – can it get any better than that? When I translate or proofread a text I always keep in mind that I would be horrified to see my name misspelled in an article or on a website. It would hurt my pride. It would strip me of my identity.

Next time you’re writing, translating or correcting a text please, please, please think of little Emi and put a smile back on her face!

Brand loyalty

Yesterday I was tweeting about coffee and I mentioned my Bialetti coffee maker. Suddenly I realised that whenever I need to buy a new coffee maker (every two to three years), I refuse to buy anything but a Bialetti. When I go to Italy, one of my favourite places to shop is the Bialetti outlet store. Why I wonder? What makes Bialetti the best brand in my little world? Why does my brain refuse to believe that other companies can make equally good coffee makers? And cost-conscious as I am, why pay more for a branded product?

The same goes for cornflakes. I only buy Kellogg’s. Not because they’re a client of the agency I work with, but probably because it’s the brand I grew up with. And having visited the Kellogg’s offices in Belgium has only reinforced my idea that its products best suit my taste buds. Then there’s make up. For me, it’s The Body Shop or nothing, even after having tried €50 Guerlain foundation.

In a way, as a translator, I’m responsible for selling products. I translate and localise press releases, product labels, marketing material, websites etc. On a professional level, I know exactly what goes into a 500-word press release. Months in advance, potential consumers are invited to try the product and give their opinion, which is then reworked into a motto or highlighted in a colourful textbox on the packaging. Translators are often sent internal guidelines and vocabulary lists. Every word is scrutinised by the marketing manager and the legal team. On a more personal level, I let my purchases be influenced by marketing and habit. Or is there more to it? I’m not sure what determines what we buy. Is it the position of the product on the shelf? Is it viral videos, ads, billboards? Or nostalgia maybe?

I’m quite sure in my case certain decisions are based on a nostalgic feeling that takes me back to my happy childhood years. My mum’s coffee (and caffè d’orzo when I was a little chipmunk) was and is to this day brewed with a Bialetti coffee maker. The only difference between mine and hers, is that hers is the traditional silver one and mine is… orange (that comes as no surprise if you read my blog). For breakfast I always had the Kellogg’s Variety packs, and I’d spend my first fifteen minutes of the day playing the games on the back of the packs. And if I remember correctly, my first lip gloss was one of those tiny pots by The Body Shop with raspberry flavour. So there you have it, brand loyalty explained from my personal point of view.

We all have brands we cherish. What are yours?