I had the idea to start a high quality, affordable home decor company long before selecting a name. While developing the product and website a voice in my head kept saying, “Come on Ed, you need a name for this baby.” I probably put off naming the company because I was hoping I would have a “flash of brilliance” moment and it would just come to me… It was important that the name be personal and have meaning greater than just a catchy phrase or a focus group approved word. So…I kept waiting.
Unfortunately, my moment of brilliance never arrived so I eventually had to really give naming this company some thought.
Since we’re a home décor company, it made sense that the name would remind me of my own home. I constructed a list…an evolving document that took shape over the course of several weeks. Each night I would work on the list, waiting patiently for the right word or phrase to trigger an emotional response that would tell me, “That’s it!” One night while I was reviewing it occurred to me that everything on the list that was meaningful related to my family…. whether it was a memory I shared with my husband, a nickname for my dad, or a term of endearment for our much-loved dog. It seems glaringly obvious now, but my home is my family and my family is my home. It’s not a building or a place, it’s wherever they are. My house is home because I share it with my husband, our dog, family and friends. When I’m at my parents’ house, or my sister’s house, I have the same sensation of “feeling at home.” When I’m with my husband and our dog, no matter the locale… I feel home.
Almost 8 years ago my husband and I decided to adopt a dog. We pained over what type of dog we wanted. We wanted a bigger dog that is great with kids; Paul and I both have big families with loads of kids….20 nieces and nephews, to be exact. After poring over dog breed research and bouncing opinions off of friends we decided to adopt a Boxer and gave her the name Sappo.
Once Sappo arrived, our house felt different. I’d see her staring longingly out the window waiting for Paul to come home, she’d greet me with her joyful wiggle at the door, she’d sleep contentedly at the foot of our bed…for the first time since leaving my parents’ house for college, my house felt like a home. So, maybe my moment of brilliance was that the company be named after our dog? At first it felt a bit cliché, but the more thought I gave it the more the idea took shape. I ran my idea past friends and family, and on one occasion was discussing the idea with a close friend who recalled, “Wasn’t your Dad a boxer when he was younger?” Immediately, I knew what the name was going to be…Bokser Home.
In his earlier youth, my dad was as an amateur boxer in what was then a predominantly eastern European community (Northeast Minneapolis) in Minnesota. My dad’s mother was full Czech and his dad was full Polish. Our last name, Guzek, is a Polish surname.
(here's an adorable photo of my mom and dad dancing at our wedding)
My dad an amateur Polish boxer, our dog a Boxer. It all felt right; a mash up of dog, dad, and family heritage. Bokser is the Polish spelling of Boxer and every time I see, say, or write Bokser Home I feel little piece of what I consider to be home.
Sleep well -
Ed
Founder
Bokser Home