ONE of the things I get really compulsive about is spelling. A writer who doesn't care about spelling deserves no more respect than a butcher who doesn't care about keeping his knives sharp. A store name that's
a little too exoticI still cringe about a column on Dr. Kevorkian in which I spelled his name "Kervorkian." If a printer hadn't caught the error just before the page went in, I would have felt humiliated to the point of seeking Kevorkian's services.
My spelling fixation has driven me nuts over a radio commercial I hear every morning for an Ala Moana men's clothing store with a name announcers struggle to pronounce. If they can't pronounce it, how am I supposed to figure out how to spell it?
It became a pressing issue when they announced a November special in which you get a free tie if you buy a sartorial shirt. I'm not sure what sartorial means and I haven't worn a tie since 1984, but it sounded like a deal to me. The dilemma became finding the store to take advantage of the deal when I couldn't spell the name of the store.
I tried the easy way first by calling 411. I pronounced the name as best I could into the phone company's recorder and waited hopefully for a computerized voice to tell me the number.
But the computer choked and a real operator came on the line. "How are you spelling that name?" he asked.
"I don't know," I said. "I was hoping you'd know."
A couple of gentlemen from the Associated Press appeared, one wearing a tie. We pay them $17,000 a month for information so I figured they could tell me the name of the store and how to spell it. But neither knew, nor did any of our editors.
I considered walking around Ala Moana Center until I found the store. But if I couldn't spell its name, how would I know it when I saw it? It became clear I would have to take a stab at spelling it as best I could to give myself a starting point for further inquiry. I came up with Herman O. Jailed O'Zanya.
That didn't look right. This was probably Italian clothing, so I changed Herman O. to Hermano. I called 411 back and had a spelling to give the operator this time.
"Are you sure you don't mean Emporio Armani?" he asked. "They sell Italian clothes."
Yeah, but do they give free ties with their sartorial shirts?
I went back to work on my spelling. The "jailed" was wrong. It was more like the sound in "Zsa Zsa." What letter would the Italians use for that sound?
I concluded it must be "g." The Italians use "g" for everything, from the "gee" in Gianni to the "guh" in Gucci to the silence in gnocci. That got me thinking about lasagna, which got me wondering if what sounds like "zanya" might be spelled "zagna."
THAT got me close enough in the phone book to a Zegna boutique in Ala Moana Center. Victory was mine.
I called for the location and felt lucky I hadn't walked around Ala Moana Center looking. "We're a little hard to find right now," the lady said. "We're near all the construction."
I started feeling sorry for these people. They spent all that money advertising a store nobody can find because they can't spell the name. The few who figure out the spelling can't find the store because it's buried under construction.
So here's the scoop: The full name is Ermenegildo Zegna. It's in the center area of Ala Moana Center on the second and third floors near Christian Dior. It's too high-rent for me, but enjoy your free tie.
Bishop Estate Archive