A Fairlady by any other name

NISSAN’S sports car may be known as Z elsewhere, but in Japan it will always be the Fairlady.

As much as its appearance, a car’s name makes an indelible first impression. Just as with people, a name can elicit a strong reaction. Even without knowing the personalities, “The Rock” paints a very different mental picture from “Pee-wee Herman.” Depending on what the car’s target market is, the model name should be suitably strong or affectionate, serious or fun. And when they can’t make up their minds, carmakers end up choosing several different names for varying markets.

The Japanese are masters at naming their vehicles differently for each region or country. Japanese names tend to be quirky and imaginative, even if the name may not be suitable for Western audiences.

NISSAN has trained several generations of human Fairladys as salespersons and ambassadors for the brand.

The most famous case of varying nameplates is the Datsun Fairlady. The Fairlady is the name for a long line of sports cars stretching back to 1962. The name is borrowed from that of a Broadway musical popular at the time: My Fair Lady. A whole subculture grew around the Fairlady brand. Datsun hired female salespersons who did product launches, entertained in showrooms, and hobnobbed in golf tournaments; they were, of course, called Miss Fairladys. When Datsun began to export the sports car to America and other markets, the name changed to the rather more formal 240Z, standing for the engine’s displacement and a sub-brand Z. The nominal dichotomy stands to this day, with the sports car still known as Fairlady in Japan, and the Z car elsewhere.

Datsun itself is a case in point. According to David Halberstam’s “The Reckoning,” the Datsun brand was created because Nissan wasn’t yet confident in its quality for export markets. To avoid tarnishing the company name, they used Datsun until the quality improved enough to finally use the Nissan brand. Now, Nissan has revived the Datsun brand as a low-cost marque for Indian, Indonesian, and, possibly, Asean markets as well.

When Toyota decided to branch out into the luxury market, the name brand Lexus was created. It was selected from a shortlist that included Calibre, Vectre, and Alexis (as in Dynasty’s Alexis Carrington—this was the 1980s after all). Alexis became Lexis and soon Lexus. Japan never carried the Lexus brand until 2005. Until then, each Lexus had its doppelganger Toyota model. The Toyota models had memorable names like the Harrier (after the fighter jet), the Celsior (presumably from the starship Excelsior), and the Altezza. Lexus, seeking to compete with numerologically inclined brands like Mercedes with their letter series (C, E, S-Class) and BMW’s numbers (3, 5, 7 Series), chose a structure similar to the Germans’: the model name followed by the engine displacement. Thus the Celsior became known as the LS400; the Harrier, the RX300; and the Altezza, the IS300.

Now that Lexus is a separate brand worldwide, the practice of having a corresponding Toyota model is no longer followed. That hasn’t stopped Toyota from rebadging the 86 as the Scion FR-S (Front engine, Rear drive-Sport) in America, and the Japanese bB cubemobile as the Scion xB. As with Lexus, for Scion, a brand created for a younger, more hip market, image is everything. Toyota and Subaru split the bill for the development of their boxer-powered sports car, with Toyota retaining pulling the 86 name from its archives, and Subaru choosing the generic acronym for Boxer Rear-drive Zenith.

In the Philippines, the brand that has followed its own path with naming its models has been Nissan. The Nissan Stanza, a moderately successful bantam car, was suddenly infused with a bit of luxury for its 1988 iteration. Sporting power steering, windows, and mirrors, and with a larger and plusher interior, calling it a Stanza wouldn’t do it any favors. So Nissan pulled out the name of its larger American model, the Maxima. Marketed by Nissan USA as the “four-door sports car,” that larger, V6-powered Maxima was quite different from the one we had here. Unfortunately, the company wasn’t done with changing names, with Nissan calling succeeding models the Bluebird (another classic Japanese nameplate), the Altima, the Cefiro, and now the Teana. Whatever goodwill and loyalty the original model name had was squandered with each new change in name.

The surprisingly fun-to-drive Almera is another curious case of changing identity. The Almera was used as the European name of our Sentra, or the Japanese Sunny. Now, the Almera name is used on a car smaller than the Sentra, but it’s also the name of the Sunny replacement in Thailand, the Korean Samsung SM3, and the Bluebird Sylphy replacement in Russia. Known in America as the Versa and in Europe as the Tiida, the car uses the platform of the new global Nissan Sunny, first launched in China. Confused yet?

Sometimes a name is culturally inappropriate, as Buick learned with the Lacrosse  and Mitsubishi with the Pajero. Lacrosse has an onanistic meaning in French-speaking Canada (In current parlance, perhaps we can call it a selfie), and the Pajero faced a similar conundrum in Spanish-speaking countries. Thus, the Lacrosse became the Allure, and in America, the Pajero is called the Montero. Strangely enough, what is supposed to be an entry-level version of the Pajero is known locally as the Montero Sport. The Toyota Fiera had less than enthusiastic reception in Puerto Rico, as the name translated to “ugly old woman.” The Ford Pinto, even discounting its combustible reputation, earned no favors in Brazil with its name, whichreportedly means “small penis” in Portuguese slang. A car for the supremely confident male, then.

Appropriately, Toyota chose animals’ names for its beast of burden. For the Philippine version, Tamaraw or the  Mindoro dwarf buffalo; for Indonesia, it is Kijang or a type of deer. The Tamaraw name became extinct when the 2005 model came about and was replaced by Innova. Indonesia’s Kijang lives on, complete with antlered logo.

Thanks to the Germans, and perhaps Apple, the current trend is towards alphanumeric names. The Hyundai Sonata name may be replaced with the i40, and the Tucson with the ix35, as those models are already being called in Europe. And that’s a real pity. Names have a meaning beyond being just a designation of model class and engine size. Whatever convoluted, “derived from the future tense of Latin for” reasoning a carmaker has with coming up with a moniker, any name is superior to just a numerical designation, Germans excepted. (Somehow, numbers really suit them.) The Ferrari Enzo is a name that is replete with emotional connections for a flagship sports car, something that can’t be said for a name like 599 GTB. (Just don’t be lazy and call your hypercar the Ferrari LaFerrari.) A Mazda Demio or Axela sounds much more likable than a Mazda2 or a Mazda3. Axela, Atenza, Altezza, Alterra-give us a catchy name; we’ll take them all.