I'VE BEEN WORKING as a lexicographer - someone who edits dictionaries, for those of you disinclined to pick one up just now - for more than 15 years, and the question that I am asked most often, by far, is "How can I make up my own word and get it in the dictionary?"
When I answer this question, I try to be encouraging, but I warn people that making up a word is easy: getting other people to use it is the hard part. And I thought that was true, until I accidentally made up a word myself.
I wasn't trying to make up a word - in fact, I often joke that dictionary editors are disqualified from making up words, in the same way that employees of Publishers Clearing House can't win the sweepstakes - but it happened anyway. And the way it happened shows how unconscious the process of making a new word can be.
In addition to working on dictionaries, I also write a hobbyist blog about sewing, called A Dress A Day. And back in 2005, I wrote a blog post about a beautiful dress from the African-born British designer Duro Olowu. The dress, which had a deep V-neck, midriff band, fullish, knee-length skirt, kimono-style sleeves, and was made in two contrasting fabrics, caught my attention - monopolized my attention, in fact. I was obsessed with it. I looked for versions of it everywhere. And instead of saying "Duro Olowu-style dress," every time I referred to that particular style (which would have become quickly tedious, as often as I did refer to it), I started saying just "Duro."
When McCall's, a major pattern company, came out with a pattern that was a very close match for the dress, I made it at least six times, in different fabric combinations, blogging about it steadily. Because I used the word "Duro" so much, other people started to, as well. People reviewing sewing patterns, including the McCall's pattern, on the great site patternreview.com; crafty people at craftster.com; bloggers making their own versions: they all used "Duro" as a shorthand for that particular style of dress. The McCall's pattern didn't mention Duro Olowu (for obvious reasons); the bloggers were just calling it that because I had. The term started showing up on
If you were going to use "Duro" as a case study of word-coinage, it would actually be fairly typical. Most new words aren't flashy, news-driven coinages, like recessionista or staycation - they're quiet words that fill a small need, and which take their place without anyone noticing, really. (I didn't even realize that I'd technically "invented a word" until people started leaving comments on my blog asking what "Duro" meant.)
Duro doesn't have the shape people expect from a new word: It's not a blend of two other words, nor is it a novel arrangement of letters. "Duro" is also a spell-word in the Harry Potter books, a planet in the "Star Wars" universe, a brand name for tires, paper bags, and hose reels, and part of the name of the Palo Duro Canyon state park near Amarillo, Texas - but since none of those things overlap with sewing, there was no confusion. Duro is an example of an eponym - a word taken from someone's name - like the leotard (from Jules Léotard, the French trapeze artist) and the cardigan (from the seventh Earl of Cardigan), although some people may not have recognized it as such, since Mr. Olowu isn't exactly a household name.
There was no cheerleading for "Duro," either - I just used it myself, in context, and other people picked it up naturally. There was no PR campaign, no "I call this dress a Duro" explanations. It just . . . happened, which is how most new words come to life. Someone wants an easy way to refer to something, and grabs whatever's close to hand. Other people with the same need pick up the same tool. If the word fits, people will use it.
As a word, "Duro" has been fairly successful, in a small way. (The dress is pretty popular, too.) Sure, it's still a jargon term, used mainly by sewists, but it's gone far afield at this point - there are many people using it who have never read my blog. One of my Duro dresses featured fabric with little Darth Vader heads (hey, it seemed like a good idea at the time!) and was widely forwarded . . . bringing the word "Duro" to the attention of a whole other kind of enthusiast.
The big question: will "Duro" ever make it into a dictionary? Well, it depends on the dictionary, of course, but it's very unlikely that such a niche fashion term would ever appear in a print dictionary. And, just for the record, I'm not planning on pulling any strings to make it happen.
Erin McKean is a lexicographer working on a new online dictionary. She blogs at www.dictionaryevangelist.com. Jan Freeman will return later this month.
