Mary and I went exploring in Southern Alberta over the weekend, visiting a couple of very impressive museums, and enjoying the scenery in the foothills of the Canadian Rockies. We took our time returning, stopping in small communities along the way, walking the sidewalks and taking in local attractions, like a coffee shop in a building owned by the singer-songwriter, Ian Tyson.

We like looking in little shops, sometimes taking the time to go inside, and finding out interesting tidbits, like how burning incense on your deck during the summer months will keep mosquitoes and other annoying bugs away. The smoke, and the smell, while pleasant to humans, is not so pleasant to mosquitoes. I have not tried it yet, but it is on my list for next summer. The smell of citronella candles is enough to drive me off the deck.

During a stroll in one community, I noticed an interesting sign on one of the shop doors. It said “Women’s Clothing Consignment Store.” It was a curiousity to me.

I am interested in how words are used, having studied language development and linguistics in a former career. Languages are constructed in such a way as to provide contrasts in meaning, and often to avoid redundancies that do not contribute to meaning. In other words, to be efficient rather than wordy, in the use of language.

I was struck by the inclusion of Women’s in the store name. It suggests the need to contrast this store with Men’s clothing consignment stores. All clothing consignment stores I have seen or heard about are always dedicated to women’s clothing. It is becoming a flourishing business. These stores are where some women bring their gently used designer label clothing to make room for something new in their closets. Buying consigned clothing is apparently both an economical and a fashionable thing to do.

There may be similar stores for men, but I have never seen one or heard of one. One reason I suppose is that I have nothing that might be considered designer clothing. If I did, I would certainly wear them to rags based on what I imagine their cost to be rather than parting with them after only gentle use.

When I do part with clothing items, it is because they either no longer fit, or are nearing the point of being no longer fit to wear, except maybe to paint the back fence. They go in bags, rather than hangers, to the nearest second hand store.

So Women’s Clothing Consignment Store strikes me as a redundancy. There is no need to “mark the contrast” as we say in linguistic circles given the apparent scarcity of Men’s clothing consignment stores. The female gender is implied based on the words “clothing consignment.”

In fact, the word “store” is also redundant because one look would tell you it is a store, and the clothing displayed in the window and on the racks visible inside, clearly women’s, even make the word “clothing” redundant. The only less than obvious term is “consignment.”

The owner might have simply and efficiently called the store “Consignment” leaving the rest of the meaning implied by all the obvious visual clues. Better yet might be the more active, energetic and inviting “Consign!” effectively eliminating the syllable “ment” that includes a unintended but visible gender reference. That single word would roll off the tongue much easier that the extended version.

Anyone with a trace of awareness would know that it is not simply a generic consignment store that would take anything worth re-selling from anyone. I saw immediately that it would be inappropriate for a man like me to drop in and ask if they would take on consignment an old but gently used furnace that is currently gathering dust in my garage. Even though it is a Lennox.

A few doors down the same street I was surprised to see a sign that said “Men’s Barbershop.” A second curiosity in such a short distance! I had not seen a Men’s clothing consignment store in this little town and I really, really doubted that there was a Women’s barbershop there.

Yet another redundancy and lack of need for contrasting barbershops based on gender, as least in my life’s experience of getting my hair cut. I have never seen a woman sitting in a barber’s chair. Granted, I have not actually gone to a barbershop for several years, now that I get my hair cut in a salon. A stylist takes less time than a barber (no trimming of eyebrows, or ear and nose hairs) but charges four times as much.

I thought the shop might have been simply and efficiently called “Barbery,” given that it was clearly already a shop and there was no need to specify Men’s. On the other hand, better yet, “Barbershop Quartet” considering that a man could get four haircuts for the price of one at a salon. Certainly economical if not fashionable. Perhaps the business logo could be “Haircuts for a Song”.

I wonder how many local people in the community have already reduced those shop names to something that is more efficient and rolls off the tongue easier. I rather doubt that anyone giving directions to visitors like us would have said, “Turn right at the “Women’s Clothing Consignment Store” and continue on past the “Men’s Barbershop.” There is no need to include what can be quickly and easily deleted as unnecessary. They are just wasted words that clutter up windows.