The Name Game

Naming a hotel, bar or restaurant sounds like it should be the easy bit of the branding process. Or at least the most fun bit. One or two words, something with imagination, job done. In reality, it’s often one of the most contested and subjective parts of building a brand.

Because new names are rarely judged in context, how could they be? They’re judged in isolation, stripped of the world they’re meant to exist within. No interiors, no atmosphere, not even a logo. Just black text on a white page. And in that format, strong ideas can feel scary. Subtle ideas can feel lost. The thing you’re actually trying to name, the experience, hasn’t even arrived yet, so the name has nothing to attach itself to beyond the decision makers in the room. It's a scenario that requires imagination. And imagination isn’t always a group sport.

The most useful way to think about a name isn’t as explanation, but as a container for meaning. It starts empty. Think of names like Google, Kodak, IKEA or Häagen Dazs. None of them communicate a function in any direct sense. They’re entirely invented. And yet they feel completely natural now because meaning's been layered into them over time, through experience, repetition and association.

In hospitality, this idea becomes especially visible when you look at long established names where meaning is either inherited, compressed or reinterpreted over time.

The Savoy takes its name from the historic Savoy Palace that once occupied the site. Claridge’s comes from William and Marianne Claridge, who ran the hotel in the mid nineteenth century. These names don’t describe a hotel. And yet they work today because meaning has been built into them. What matters isn’t what the name explains at the point of creation, but what it becomes capable of holding. A brand name's ultimately a vessel, a container. And it absorbs its meaning through everything that follows, the space, the service, the tone, the reputation and the memories people attach to it.

Naming can be difficult because it removes all of that context and reduces everything to a single line of text. When a name’s viewed in isolation, stripped of identity and environment, it invites a level of scrutiny we never apply in the real world. In those conditions, it becomes easy to overanalyse, project personal associations and arrive at conclusions that feel disproportionately important. Add group decision making into the mix and the process becomes even more complex. Every name passes through individual filters, personal experiences, cultural references, subconscious biases, none of which will necessarily relate to the brand strategy at hand. That’s often where strong names get lost, something we’ve seen many times. 

Ultimately we’re not deciding whether we personally like a name, we’re deciding whether it works based on the agreed brand positioning, and from that point of view, a few guardrails tend to help: no obvious personal associations overriding judgement, no “I just don’t like it” as a standalone critique, no spelling or pronunciation anxiety unless it’s genuinely gone too far, and no ignoring the agreed brand positioning. Without these, naming quickly becomes a referendum on taste rather than a strategic decision. And taste on its own is rarely a reliable branding tool, whether from designers or clients.

Once you move past instinct, most naming systems fall into four broad categories. Each has a role in hospitality, but each behaves differently once it meets the real world.

Functional / descriptive names are the most literal. They explain exactly what the business is. Think The Steak House, City View Hotel, Riverside Bar. There’s clarity, which can be useful in very specific contexts, particularly where discoverability matters or the offer is highly self explanatory.

But descriptiveness comes at a cost. It limits distinction. And in hospitality, where experience is the product, it often leaves too little room for imagination. It’s hard to build strong brand equity in something that could belong to anyone. If Apple had taken this approach, it might have been called Designer Computers. Technically accurate. Strategically limiting.

Invented names sit on a spectrum. Some are constructed from classical linguistic roots. Others are more phonetic, built for rhythm, tone and memorability rather than meaning. The advantage is obvious, they’re ownable. They’re easier to trademark, easier to secure online/across socials, and free from preloaded associations. But they also require something crucial, narrative. Without a world built around them, they can feel empty. With the right identity, they become highly flexible and deeply ownable.

Experiential names are grounded in behaviour or feeling. They suggest movement, atmosphere or mindset rather than function. They tend to work quickly, people understand them instinctively. But they’re also widely used, which can lead to overlap across sectors. The risk isn’t that they don’t work, it’s that they start to sound familiar too quickly.

Evocative names are the most abstract and often the most ambitious. They don’t describe or explain. They position. Think Apple or Virgin. Neither tells you what the business does. Both create a distinct, unique space that meaning is later built into.

In hospitality, this approach is powerful because it allows a brand to become larger than its category, to feel like a world rather than a venue. But it’s also the hardest to land internally. It’s the naming category where instinct, fear and opinion naturally collide hardest. The moment where abstraction has to be considered against more familiar reference points, and where decisions start to feel most exposed. And yet, these are often the names that prove most durable over time. Because the names that last are rarely the ones that felt safest in the room. 

Naming is rarely about landing on the perfect word in isolation. It’s about creating something that can grow into meaning over time. The strongest names don’t arrive fully formed. They gain weight through use, through experience, through the world that’s built around them. What matters is choosing something with enough potential to hold that meaning, and the clarity to recognise it when you see it.

That’s where the process really matters. The most successful naming projects tend to be the ones with a clear point of view from the start. A shared understanding of what the brand is becoming, a focused group making decisions, and a willingness to back ideas that might not feel completely obvious on day one. Because good names don’t need to explain everything upfront. They need to be distinctive enough to be remembered, flexible enough to grow, and confident enough to lead.

In hospitality, where the experience is everything, the name is simply the first step into it. Done well, it doesn’t just label the place. It gives people something to step into, and something to come back to.