Here’s a fun fact that might ruin your Christmas playlist: the 12 Days of Christmas aren’t the days leading up to Christmas. They’re the days after. The 12 days start on December 25th and run through to January 5th (Twelfth Night). The bit before Christmas? That’s Advent.
So while everyone’s been counting down with Advent calendars, the actual 12 days of feasting, celebration and keeping the decorations up were always meant to come afterwards.
There’s a marketing lesson in there somewhere – we tend to put all our energy into the build-up and forget the magic happens in the follow-through. But that’s not what this article is about.
This article is about words. Specifically, words we’ve all read a hundred times… and then said out loud completely wrong. So, in the spirit of the season (and because we work with words for a living), here are 12 words that have humbled the best of us.
1. Epitome
How it’s been said: EPP-ih-tome
How it’s actually said: eh-PIT-oh-me
This one has ended friendships. You’re in a meeting, confidently declaring something is ‘the EPP-ih-tome of excellence,’ and someone snorts. Four syllables. Who knew. (I didn’t; I actually used this one in a presentation, and a nice person let me know after the fact).
2. Segue
How it’s been said: SEG-you
How it’s actually said: SEG-way
And no, the scooter wasn’t first. The word ‘segue’ (meaning a smooth transition) comes from Italian and has been around for centuries. The two-wheeled thing that American mall cops ride was named after the word. I got to ride one of these around Devonport, there’s a company that does them, ‘Magic Broomstick Segway Tours’ – highly recommend.
3. Hyperbole
How it’s been said: HYPER-bowl
How it’s actually said: hy-PER-buh-lee
It’s not a sporting event for overly enthusiastic people. It’s a literary device for exaggeration, or put simply; using super-duper big, crazy exaggerations, to make a point or be funny. “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse!” I remember learning it in sixth-form English (year 12).
4. Quinoa
How it’s been said: KWIN-oh-ah
How it’s actually said: KEEN-wah
The word that launched a thousand awkward café orders. Half the letters are silent. The other half are lying to you.
5. Charcuterie
How it’s been said: CHAR-koo-ter-ee? Shar-KOO-tree? Char-kyu-ter-EE?
How it’s actually said: shar-KOO-tuh-ree
I’ve even explained once to think of it as a cute shark… but really, just point at the board and say ‘that fancy meat platter, thanks.’
6. Niche
How some say it: NITCH
How others say it: NEESH
This one’s a choose-your-own-adventure. Both are technically correct, though ‘neesh’ is closer to the French original. Use whichever makes you feel fancier. We won’t judge. (We might judge a little.)
7. Cache
How it’s been said: CASH-ay
How it’s actually said: CASH
‘Clear your cash-ay’ sounds like financial advice from a bro. ‘Clear your cache’ is IT advice. One syllable. The ‘e’ is decoration.
8. Bao
How it’s been said: BAY-oh
How it’s actually said: BOW (like ‘ow, that hurt’)
My sister suggested Bay-oh Buns for lunch, and I nearly wet my pants laughing. These delicious fluffy buns deserve to be ordered correctly. Rhymes with ‘wow’ – which is also what you’ll say when you eat one.
9. Açaí
How it’s been said: Uh-KAI? Ah-SAI? AK-ee-ai?
How it’s actually said: ah-sah-EE
I’m guilty of this one, I’ve been saying eye-sigh all this time. Who knew! There are three syllables, all of them unexpected. That little squiggle under the ‘c’ (called a cedilla) is doing a lot of heavy lifting.
10. Gnocchi
How it’s been said: guh-NOK-ee or NOK-ee or guh-NO-chee
How it’s actually said: NYOK-ee
Those pillowy little potato dumplings deserve better. The ‘gn’ in Italian makes a ‘ny’ sound – like in the middle of ‘lasagna’. Which, now we think about it, you’ve probably been saying right this whole time.
11. Faux Pas
How it’s been said: FOX pass or FAW paw
How it’s actually said: foh PAH
And a previous employee though Faux Fur meant Fox Fur, just spelt fancy. It means a social blunder – which is ironic, because mispronouncing it is exactly that. The ‘x’ and the ‘s’ are both silent. French really said ‘let’s just throw some letters in there for decoration.’
12. GIF
How half the world says it: GIF (hard g, like ‘gift’)
How the other half says it: JIF (soft g, like ‘giraffe’)
The creator says it’s ‘jif’. The internet says it’s ‘gif’. Wars have been fought over less. But can you imagine if God came back to earth and said, actually, it’s Jod? We’re not here to tell you which is right. We’re just here to watch the comments section burn.
The point?
Words are tricky. Even the ones we use every day can trip us up. And that’s okay.
At MasterJack, we believe the best words aren’t the ones that make you sound clever – they’re the ones that make you understood. (And if you’ve been saying ‘EPP-ih-tome’ your whole life, I see you. I’ve been there.)
Bonus: What’s the song actually about?
Since we’re on the topic, you might have heard theories about what ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ song means. There are two main camps:
Theory 1: It’s all birds.
The first seven gifts are clearly birds: partridge, turtle doves, French hens, calling birds (originally ‘colly birds’, meaning blackbirds), geese, and swans. But what about those five golden rings breaking up the pattern? Some historians believe ‘golden rings’ refers to ring-necked pheasants or ‘goldspinks’ – an old name for goldfinches. Which means the first seven days were all birds. Some enthusiasts go further, suggesting maids a-milking are cattle egrets, pipers piping are sandpipers, and drummers drumming are grouse (which make a drumming sound when they mate). A stretch? Maybe. But it’s fun.
Theory 2: It’s a secret Catholic code.
This theory claims the song was used to teach Christian beliefs when Catholics faced persecution.
The partridge is Jesus. Two turtle doves are the Old and New Testaments. Three French hens are faith, hope and love. Four calling birds are the four gospels. Five golden rings are the first five books of the Old Testament. And so on, all the way up to twelve drummers representing the twelve points of the Apostle’s Creed.
It’s a lovely idea. But historians have poked some fairly large holes in it – mainly: if you’re hiding your faith, why would you sing a song with the word ‘Christmas’ in every single line?
The boring truth?
It was probably just a memory game. A bit of festive silliness that’s somehow survived for centuries. No hidden meaning. No secret code. Which, honestly, feels about right.
Merry Christmas, Happy Twelfth Night, and may your 2025 be full of words you can actually pronounce.