You know that Italy is truly in the grip of recession when two kids’ shops close down in Civitavecchia. As most Italian parents would go without bread in order to buy a new toy or pair of designer trainers for little Federica or Federico, it came as a bit of a shock when a toy shop and a store for designer kids clothes shut down within a week of each other. They have now been replaced with a shoe shop and a pharmacy. The former stands a good chance (a short walk along the promenade will tell you that women in this town can never have too many pairs of ugly white boots) while the latter, the chemist, is practically a license to print money. Italians’ acute hypochondria is more than equalled by their chronic distrust of doctors and hospitals which ensures lines around the block for every chemist shop in town. I’m sure they are already doing a brisk trade from all those who have self diagnosed themselves with Mexican Swine Flu.
The humble toy shop though is a different story. It needs a gimmick – like a good name. Take Titty Baby in Rome for example. (Now wipe up the coffee you just spat all over the screen and concentrate). English eyes scanning the shop fronts of Via Appia Nuova, could be forgiven for thinking that they had chanced upon either a soft core porn emporium or the mother of all brassiere boutiques. No. It’s a toy shop. Titty being the Italian translation for Tweety – the passive aggressive yellow bird with a speech impediment of Looney Tunes Cartoons fame. Don’t ask.
Living in the globalized world in which we do, the risk of translation malfunction is an increasing problem leaving you open to the all kinds of misrepresentation lawsuits. In the case of Titty Baby though, I’m certain that even bewildered buxom tourists come away with a cute gift for a favoured nephew or niece. Much more problematic is “Pompino” which we discovered on our last trip back to New Zealand. To Aucklanders, it is the rather harmless sounding name of a downtown Italian restaurant. Italian visitors are rather perplexed as to why you would call a restaurant “blow job”. In the age of google, surely someone should have told them or is it just that the chefs aren’t too fussy about what they put in your mouth?
Someone should do a study on whether having a clever-clever shop name actually translates into increased custom. It seems to be working for C’Art which is so ubiquitous, if you threw a brick down Via Del Corso, you’d hit 17 of them. Pronounced with a soft “c” you get – “There’s Art”, with a hard “c” you get “Paper”. Not bad for a stationery store full of glittery overpriced shite. It’s the sort of place you’d go to buy a last minute birthday gift for someone you don’t know very well or clearly don’t like. It’s generally full of c’unts – and there’s only one way to pronounce that.
The humble toy shop though is a different story. It needs a gimmick – like a good name. Take Titty Baby in Rome for example. (Now wipe up the coffee you just spat all over the screen and concentrate). English eyes scanning the shop fronts of Via Appia Nuova, could be forgiven for thinking that they had chanced upon either a soft core porn emporium or the mother of all brassiere boutiques. No. It’s a toy shop. Titty being the Italian translation for Tweety – the passive aggressive yellow bird with a speech impediment of Looney Tunes Cartoons fame. Don’t ask.
Living in the globalized world in which we do, the risk of translation malfunction is an increasing problem leaving you open to the all kinds of misrepresentation lawsuits. In the case of Titty Baby though, I’m certain that even bewildered buxom tourists come away with a cute gift for a favoured nephew or niece. Much more problematic is “Pompino” which we discovered on our last trip back to New Zealand. To Aucklanders, it is the rather harmless sounding name of a downtown Italian restaurant. Italian visitors are rather perplexed as to why you would call a restaurant “blow job”. In the age of google, surely someone should have told them or is it just that the chefs aren’t too fussy about what they put in your mouth?
Someone should do a study on whether having a clever-clever shop name actually translates into increased custom. It seems to be working for C’Art which is so ubiquitous, if you threw a brick down Via Del Corso, you’d hit 17 of them. Pronounced with a soft “c” you get – “There’s Art”, with a hard “c” you get “Paper”. Not bad for a stationery store full of glittery overpriced shite. It’s the sort of place you’d go to buy a last minute birthday gift for someone you don’t know very well or clearly don’t like. It’s generally full of c’unts – and there’s only one way to pronounce that.
S.B.
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