While it appears I got up this morning intent on serving a two courses of wagon-related blogs, the dull truth is that while I was typing out the first one, my mind veered off tangentially.

As that post references, in the earliest days of estates coming into being, they were known collectively as utility vehicles.

They, along with the first saloons, were also referred to as ‘enclosed’, signifying how the worst of the weather was kept away from passengers. This was in stark contrast to the most popular bodystyle at the dawn of the 1920s – the tourer.

Back then, a tourer was typically a one- or two-row open-topped car, with a rudimentary folding fabric roof and ill-fitting, flexible curtains between the hood and the sides of the bodywork, although many didn’t even have those.

Today’s tourers aren’t convertibles, though?

Just as everyday language constantly evolves, with different generations stamping their linguistic authority by insisting various words should mean something different from what was originally intended, over the course of half a century ‘tourer’ – and derivations of it – has become synonymous with estates.

That’s only part of the story, though: of all the different types of cars produced since the first was produced, manufacturers have bestowed a wider array of euphemistic names upon estates than any other bodystyle.

And yes, right on cue, I mean ‘euphemism’ in the original sense of substituting a milder, more acceptable term in place of one which may cause some people a degree of discomfort, not its more commonplace use today as an alternative to a specifically sexual reference.

As far as I’m aware, no car company’s yet formally titled an estate as ‘Load Swallower’, for instance, although that hasn’t stopped brochure copywriters from flirting with danger…

Why do estates get this special treatment?

Good question. It’s likely linked to historic prejudices about assumptions that estates are van-like and therefore of a lower vehicular status.

While that sounds like a Hyacinth Bucket phrase disapprovingly uttered in Richard’s direction as she berated him for looking longingly at anything but a booted four-door Rover, it syncs with automotive marketeers’ activities. By naming estates differently, calling them something which sounds more intriguing, exciting even, there’s a chance they won’t be as strongly perceived as practical holdalls by those who’d otherwise find them unacceptably utilitarian.

Once that’s happened for one generation of models, with apparent success, it becomes a tradition. Rival manufacturers take note and they employ similar tactics. Before you know it, there’s a broad range of luggage-luggers for car buyers to choose between, with very few of them featuring ‘estate’ in their name.

Several of these euphemistic names remain unique to different markets, while others begin that way before being gradually being adopted across broader sales regions, linguistic challenges permitting.

Anyway, this got me thinking about various euphemisms applied to estates in the UK…

It sounds fun being you

It is!

So, with a liberal sprinkling of whimsy, here’s my Top 10 estate cars with euphemistic names.

You actually have a Top 10 list of estates with weird names?

Of course – doesn’t everyone?

Some of these have been used by multiple marques – see how many you recognise:

1. 5-Door – nil points for effort, but five stars for the brass neck of it
2. Aerodeck – sounds properly slinky, even if only the first one really was
3. Avant – ‘I know this is crazy, but hear me out: let’s use a word which means “front” in another language to reference what we’ve done at the back…’
4. Companion – awww, sounds wholesome – until you wonder if their actual companion’s been forced to sit in the boot
5. Family Saloon – ‘now, it may look like an estate, but I’m afraid you’re wrong, because the brochure clearly states it’s called something quite different’
6. Fastback Estate – kudos here: offer a choice of two, with an estatey estate sold alongside another with racier styling and a name to match
7. Safari – I mean, they’re big enough in the back to contain an entire game reserve, so…
8. Savanna – ‘we’ll call it something which doesn’t reflect its nationality, but due to naming rights issues, we’ll probably call it something else in the UK which also doesn’t reflect its nationality’
9. Stretchback – I mean, where to begin here..? Stretchback??
10. Weekend – ‘something for the weekend, sir?’ ‘Just a tenner of four-star thanks’

Are there any corkers which appear in your Top 10 – and don’t pretend you’re not thinking about it – that I’ve not mentioned? Drop them in the comments section below.