Why Are We Obsessed With Naming Things?

When I was a little girl, my dad and I had our own secret language. One of the most prevalent words we used was “bohono,” a term my dad coined to teach me about lying. He would use his pointer finger and gesture an imaginary pinocchio nose within thin air, and would say, “Are you telling me a bohono?” By the time I was in high school, the word became our code. I would text him during the state of an emergency at my first house parties, and on my first dates with boys—he would immediately come to pick me up, no questions asked from my one worded text: bohono.

When I was twenty-two, my dad passed away, and now, in my late twenties, I think about our code words and phrases all the time. I no longer get to speak our confidential language with him, but I know the etymology of it all too well. To other’s voyeuristically overhearing our conversations, it must have sounded like a load of gibberish. But, it’s not just me and my dad who are the masterminds behind our own little words, and sitcom bit-worthy catch-phrases, even going on to name and personify objects because, well, it’s fun (duh!). It’s a widespread cultural phenomenon, and may be a tale as old as time: the intrinsic need to identify and name something, tailoring and claiming it as your own. And no, I’m not necessarily talking about adding -core or insert -girl to the tailend of a “new” pseudo-style aesthetic or social trend.