Over time, words shift in meaning. Take the word "wireless," for example. It started out as a noun that means radio. Now, well, you know what wireless means.

As society, culture, and technology evolve, we sometimes need to stretch our words to describe the concepts in our world… Sometimes we innovate and coin new words. Sometimes we assign new meanings to--or rework the meanings of--"old" words.

Marketers can play on word meanings--and even provoke a word shift--with their clever messaging. Lately, I have been noticing the word "naked" used in a new way, for example:

• "Naked Juice" is "Naked. Nothing to hide."
• Stacy's Pita Chips are "Simply naked, with nothing but sea salt."
  

As a marketing word, "naked" is certainly an attention grabber! While the meaning used to be more narrow (e.g., limited to "naked body" or "the naked truth"), it's expanded to fill a gap in our whole foods vocabulary. Now, "naked" means pure, uncoated, natural. 

How else will we use starting using it?

For more on language change, read: http://www.bbc.co.uk/voices/yourvoice/language_change2.shtml

What does American English sound like to someone who doesn't speak English? 

Prisencolinensinainciusol, a song by Italian Adriano Celentano, answers that question. Take a look at the video. What do you hear?

Inspired by the theme of "incomprehension," Celentano composed this song using the sounds of American English--and some actual English words--in a jumbled, nonsensical way. The result is a glimpse at what we sound like to someone who can't understand us.

When it came out in the early 1970s, the song was a big hit in Europe.  For more background, listen to this NPR Interview with Celentano (November, 2012). 

It's been a while since I was surrounded by people I could not communicate with. Does the song make you recall a time when you struggled to make yourself understood?

Many thanks to Maria Checchia-Ciazza for this Guest Post: 

You want to stop conversation at a party? Tell someone you’re a stay-at-home mom (SAHM). Unless the person you’re speaking to is a SAHM herself, you’ll get one, maybe two weak questions back, such as, “How old are your kids?” Then, the person politely excuses him/herself to go grab another drink.

Why? Because a SAHM just sounds so darn boring!

First, there were "housewives," then "homemakers." And it was only in the early 1990s, when women rightly objected to both of those because they made raising children more about the home than the kids, did we start using the term “stay-at-home mom.”  To me, all these terms feel like a kick in the pants.

Is there a way to describe mothers and their relationship with the paid workforce without insulting them?

Stay-at-home mother? “Most of them are never home. Spend hours as unpaid taxi drivers!”

Working mother? “Of course, we are working every minute of every day!”

Non-working mother? “Seriously? No sick days allowed!”

Full-time mother? “How can you clock your hours?  Whether I am at home or work, I am always a mother!”

Here’s another thought.  How about the fact that society never feels the need to “label” fathers with “working” terms?

I would suggest that a replacement term has to meet two criteria. First, that it apply to men as well as women. Second, that it include those who are parents and those who are not. Our social ideal should be a work/life model where everyone shapes a career that includes times where we work full-force and times when we kick back, and our words should be consistent with that. They should embrace the sense of ebb and flow, more and less that are the truth of most of our lives, rather than the stop and start, one or the other, that are unrealistically divisive.

Aren’t we, as a culture, free to come up with a new word to refer to stay-at-home parents?  Here are some I've heard:   “domestic goddess,”  “primary caregiver,”  and “domestic engineer.”

Maybe, we should simply change the term SAHM and make it the French, “C’est une mere chez soi.”

Whatever the term, it’s past time we find one.  Any suggestions? 

I was headed to Italy with a dear friend who had never been to Europe. "I've heard a lot about gelato," she said. "What flavors do they have? Just chocolate and vanilla, or other flavors?"

Her questions reminded me that chocolate and vanilla are the standard, "basic" flavors you find in the U.S. A small ice cream shop might only have those two options, and you'd expect a larger shop to offer chocolate and vanilla (by default) plus other options.

More deeply, my friend's questions made me reflect on what's "standard" or "plain"--and how that's culturally-bounded. 

In the U.S., we refer to something as "plain vanilla" to indicate the option that has little embellishment or elaboration. For example, a "plain vanilla" outfit, car, or house is the simplest version offered. As an expression, "plain vanilla" holds a lot of cultural meaning. 

Incidentally, in Italy, you're just as likely to encounter a small gelato shop that offers sour cherry, hazelnut, or nougat as you are to see "plain" chocolate. Vanilla, on the other hand, is pretty exotic. The standard, "unmarked" base flavor is "gelato alla crema," made with milk, sugar, and egg. Vanilla, as an aroma, is as noteworthy in Italy as rosewater or orange blossom would be in the U.S. 

(Needless to say, my friend and I both enjoyed all the flavors we tried!)

What expressions do you use that reveal your cultural frame or bias? How might these expressions translate across cultures? What do they reveal about your expectations of "how things should always be?"