Word of the week: Orchard
An old word is awkwardly grafted onto a new brand name. Do we expect better from Meghan, Duchess of Sussex?
On March 14, a Montecito, California, resident coyly announced her new business venture via an Instagram Story. Details were few, but two names stood out: that of the new business, American Riviera Orchard, and of its founder, the Duchess of Sussex, aka Meghan Markle.
Later that day, The Guardian reported that the grainy video, “with the sound off, bares [sic] some resemblance to the title sequence of the TV series Succession, showing Meghan arranging flowers in the kitchen of her estate in Montecito and posing in an alcove wearing a black ballgown. The video is set to Nancy Wilson’s I Wish You Love.”
The New York Times speculated about the timing of the announcement “amid a week of wild-eyed speculation about Catherine, Princess of Wales, Meghan’s sister-in-law, who apologized on Monday for releasing an edited image of herself.”
And the BBC mused: “It remains unclear what exactly she is selling - but internet sleuths scouring pending US trademark applications have found that American Riviera Orchards [sic — I guess the copyeditor shortage is global now] plans to sell cookbooks and home goods such as decanters and kitchen linens, as well as foods including marmalade and jellies.”
Your faithful correspondent did some sleuthing of her own and noticed that the company’s URL is simply AmericanRiviera.com. So I’m moved to ask: Whence that “orchard,” and what to make of this three-word, ten-syllable pile-up of a name?
I want to acknowledge that I’m not unaware of the hostility in some quarters (mostly across the pond) that has been directed toward Meghan1. Resentment. Racism. Et cetera.
Me? I can’t believe that “royalty” still exists in the 21st century, and I have zero vested interest in how Mr. and Mrs. Sussex choose to monetize their leisure hours. I am interested, however, in the clumsy American Riviera Orchard brand name2, so let’s take a closer look.
“The Riviera” was originally used in the 1600s to refer to the coast of the Republic of Genoa. Since the mid-1800s, according to the OED, it has referred to “the Mediterranean coastal region of south-eastern France and north-western Italy between Marseilles and La Spezia, famous for its beauty, mild climate, and fashionable resorts; (now also) spec. the Côte d'Azur, the section of this coastline in eastern Provence which includes the resorts of Cannes, Nice, and Antibes.” “American Riviera” is how some people refer to the pleasant, monied stretch of coastal Santa Barbara County where the Sussexes have transplanted themselves. The USPTO database reveals a clutch of non-Sussex “American Riviera” marks: a bank, a fragrance, a magazine, an art show, a winery. “Riviera,” sans “American,” shows up in hundreds of other trademarks. It’s a popular term. Maybe a little too popular.
On LinkedIn3, Rachel Bernard, owner of the Brooklyn-based Parts of Speech consultancy, offered this opinion about “American Riviera Orchard”:
My instinct was that the name the Duchess really wanted, American Riviera, was probably already taken. And her team added Orchard to hang out like a third wheel in order to clear the registration process. A quick scan of the USPTO database confirmed my hunch was probably correct.
And remember the AmericanRiviera.com URL? Probably snatched up with great expectations before any trademark research was performed. Never a wise idea.
Rachel concluded:
Naming is an exercise in heartbreak. You find “the one” only to find out it already belongs to someone else and the trademark is taken. What separates professional namers is an uncanny ability to move on quickly and not dwell too long on the one that got away.
Co-sign!
Other colleagues weighed in:
The name is “memorable in its terribleness,” said marketing strategist Philip Davidson.
It’s a “verbal collision of a name (drop one of the words),” said brand consultant Alan Brew.
And Sarah Vienot, a principal at the Canadian agency Fussfactory, wrote this:
Meghan Markle’s new lifestyle brand seems to align itself with an unattainable royal ideal, a stark contrast to her well documented desire to escape the constraints of royal duties.
Had she chosen a path of boldness and fun for her venture — something less stuffy and formal, and unveiled a brand that truly reflected her persona, I think it would have been [a] much more interesting approach.
And lest we accuse branding professionals of self-interest, the fashion and lifestyle writer Tara Smith of the
newsletter also expressed doubts, calling American Riviera Orchard “the opposite of a catchy name.”Of all the words that could have been added to “American Riviera,” why “orchard”?
Probably to evoke nature, gardening, and vegetal bounty. One of the ARO trademark filings specifies, among other goods, “Gardening trowels; Garden weeding forks; Gardening shears; Bags specially adapted for holding gardening hand tools; Garden tool gift set.” Also included in the expansive filing: honey butter, dried fruits and vegetables, relish, vinegar, mayonnaise, cookies, biscuits, and crackers.
“Orchard” conceivably encompasses all of those items. It’s a very old English word — an Old English word, in fact. It originally signified an enclosed garden for herbs and fruit trees and now refers only to an area of land where fruit trees are cultivated. (Fun fact: Since 1913 or so, “orchard” has also been American slang for a baseball outfield.) Its etymology is a bit hazy: the “orc” element may be related to the Latin hort- that gives us “horticulture,” or to Germanic “wort” (plant); the “hard” element is a form of “yard.”
Like “Riviera,” “orchard” is popular in brand names. I found hundreds of filings for ORCHARD trademarks: for jewelry, building materials, private equity, frozen fruit, consumer research, and at least two unrelated hard-cider brands.
This is not Meghan’s first foray into lifestyle content. Back in 2014, when she was a commoner with a day job on the TV legal drama “Suits,” she launched The Tig, a lifestyle blog “packed with insights into Meghan’s life, including her friendships, relationships and adventures in Vancouver, where she was living at the time,” as Tatler breathlessly put it in a recent article. The blog’s name was a truncation of Tignanello, her favorite red wine.
Nor is American Riviera Orchard Meghan’s maiden web venture as Harry’s spouse. In early 2020 the couple introduced SussexRoyal.com “as a source of factual information regarding the workstreams of The Duke and Duchess of Sussex.” Workstreams? Oh yes. The word caught my attention, and I wrote about it. Back then, the Sussex workstreams flowed mostly with charitable endeavors; as of last week, we’ve been put on notice to expect a more cash-filled cascade.
May I call her Meghan? That’s how all the news media refer to her.
“Or as no one calls it yet, ‘ARO.’” — Rory Satran, Wall Street Journal
Where I’m still having fun!
Thanks for the mention! Yes, I am Team Meghan as well so didn't mean my comment as a criticism. It's just such an odd name from someone who has so much experience in the world of branding and, well, just being fabulous.
Pretty clunky name. And I'm one of those Meghan lovers! As always, insightful, Nancy. I would also love to see a brand that emerges from who she is, but maybe that's in flux for her.