Yet More Paris Shop Signs: From the Ridiculous to the Sublimely Ridiculous, Part 11

At the risk of stating the obvious, the world is in a sorry state. Economies are struggling, Russia is stirring up ancient hatreds, airplanes are dropping like rain, and the Middle East is going to hell even faster than usual. More than ever, what we all need now is a rational, fair-minded discussion of the key basic issues.

So someone should get busy on that pretty soon. Meanwhile, I have decided to add to the self-serving insanity with yet another batch of inadvertently funny Paris shop signs.

I know that it seems like I wrote on this topic only two weeks ago, but that’s because I did. However, as Ernest Hemingway said in the first draft of his memoir, “Paris is an unimprovable feast of idiotic shop signs.” Its merchants never cease coming up with ridiculous trade names, and I never cease wanting to ridicule them.

But first, before proceeding I should point out, in all fairness, that not all Parisian business names are illogical and risible. Some are perfectly logical. But still risible, like this hotel on Rue de Turbigo, whose name can only be described as “overstating the obvious”:

I wish I had been there for the brainstorming sessions with the branding consultants. “Okay, so we’re going to open a hotel in Paris, France. But what shall we call it? We need something distinctive, catchy and impactful. Let’s get thinking, people — I want everybody’s A-game on this one!”

I would not be surprised if it was this marketing firm that handled the contract:

Why is this supposed to be an alluring name for a business? Why not Meatloaf Tuesday, Washday Wednesday, WTFI Thursday, Colonoscopy Friday or Lost Weekend?

Or maybe this is just another of those “free association” names that I’ve been seeing more and more often in Paris. In previous installments of this recurring feature, I have mentioned establishments called Fresh & Bagels, Learn and Fun and Cook & Go.

It seems that when it comes to naming a Parisian business, English words are trendy, and any two will do. Consider these examples:

Actually, this is the result of a simple misunderstanding. It’s a T-shirt and sweatshirt stand at a trade fair, and the French word for “sweatshirt” is sweat, which pronounced through a Francophone pharynx can easily end up sounding like “sweet,” which still sounds a whole lot better than chemise de transpiration, so the sign kind of makes sense.

Unlike this next one:

And even that makes more sense than:

Seriously? What kind of folks? In-laws? And why not wrens? But my nominee for the strangest two-word combo in the entire Paris Trade Register is:

It wouldn’t be strange if it were a Mali-Mex fusion restaurant, but this is a hairdresser’s shop on Rue du Faubourg Saint Martin. In any case, an African taco sounds a whole lot more appetizing than a meal from:

“I’ll have the monkey brain sandwich and a pizza with double cheese mites.”

Maybe it’s the next big thing in Parisian dining. Fads pop up all the time, after all, in food and in shop names. And sometimes in both at once:

A little explanation is in order here. The French seem to think that the suffix “ing” can be tacked onto any English word, verb or noun or adjective, and it will make sense. They were wrong about the Maginot Line, too.

But there’s no stopping them now. One of the most respected (including by me) restaurant guides in France these days is called “Le Fooding.” Perhaps based on that example, when someone wanted to open a fancy, upscale meat eatery in Saint Germain, they figured that “Steaking” was a great name. And they’re staking a huge investment on it, with a whiskey bar (“Whiskeying”) and a voiturier service (valet parkinging).

Meanwhile, names evoking an entirely different food group have been cropping up in the hairdressing sector:

No doubt some enterprising coiffeur will soon be inspired to combine the two trends by opening a salon called “Hairing.” I’m pretty sure that this is mentioned in the Book of Revelations as a sign of the end times.

Speaking of divine revelations, I’m still waiting for St. Genou-Gifleur, the patron saint of punchlines, to answer my prayers for a good transition to this next sign, which has been pointed out to me by so many baffled readers I have to stick it in here somewhere:

A note to the owner of this store: I’m not exactly sure how to follow your instruction, but I know I’d rather do that than wear your car.

And, in closing, a note to readers: Paris Update, along with the entire population of France, is about to take its annual August break. I will be back in the fall, perhaps with even more ill-advised shop names. Until then:

Have you seen a ridiculous sign in Paris? Or anywhere in France? If not, you will eventually. When it happens, send me a photo in care of contact@paris-update.com.

David Jaggard

 

© 2014 Paris Update

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