Brekkies, barbies, mozzies: why do Aussies shorten so many words?
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/kate-burridge-130136">Kate Burridge</a>, <em><a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/monash-university-1065">Monash University</a></em> and <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/howard-manns-111255">Howard Manns</a>, <em><a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/monash-university-1065">Monash University</a></em></p>
<p>Australians sure do like those <em>brekkies</em>, <em>barbies</em> and <em>mozzies</em>.</p>
<p>We’re not talking about “actual” <em>mozzies</em> here. We’re <em>defo</em> (definitely) talking about words — and Aussies can’t seem to get enough of these shortened words.</p>
<p><a href="https://catalogue.nla.gov.au/Record/1988059">Some</a> say we’re lazy for clipping them. <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/language-in-society/article/abs/does-language-reflect-culture-evidence-from-australian-english/75BDD40DC2429903CABAA39BB9CA83B7">Others</a> claim it’s just Aussies knocking words down to size — ta, we’ll have a glass of <em>cab sav</em> or <em>savvy b</em> instead of whatever that is in French.</p>
<p>Our most beloved shortenings end in <em>-ie/y</em> and <em>-o</em>. Journos often ask us why Aussies use them, and whether they’ll last. Well, not only are we still using them, <em>seppos</em> (Americans) and <em>pommies</em> (Brits) are joining the action, too.</p>
<p>Here’s an uplifting story for your <em>hollies</em> (holidays) about Australia’s “<a href="https://www.newsouthbooks.com.au/books/story-australian-english/">incredible shrinking words</a>”.</p>
<h2>Endings that bond and bind us</h2>
<p>These alternative forms of words are often described as “diminutives” (or hypocoristics).</p>
<p>Pet names with such endings can show we have a warm or simply friendly attitude toward something or someone (think of the <em>-s</em> on <em>Cuddles</em>). Certainly, on names, <em>-ie/y</em> and <em>-o</em> are often affectionate (think <em>Susy</em> and <em>Robbo</em>).</p>
<p>But the vast majority of Aussie diminutives are doing something different.</p>
<p>Indeed, saying <em>journo</em> or <em>pollie</em> doesn’t usually indicate we’re thinking of journalists and politicians as small and endearing things. These “diminutives” are also a world away from the <em>birdies</em> and <em>doggies</em> of the nursery. Adult Australians might cheerfully talk about <em>blowies</em> and <em>trackies</em>, but not <em>birdies</em> and <em>doggies</em> — well, unless it’s on the golf course or perhaps in reference to the Western Bulldogs getting a <em>specky</em> (spectacular mark).</p>
<p>For Australian National University linguist <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books/about/Semantics_Culture_and_Cognition.html?id=5XM8DwAAQBAJ&redir_esc=y">Anna Wierzbicka</a>, these expressions are among the most culturally salient features of Australian English — expressions of informality and solidarity that are “uniquely suited to the Anglo-Australian ethos […] and style of interaction”.</p>
<p>Experiments by Australian linguists have empirically confirmed the <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/298354067">social effects</a> of these embellished words. Colloquialisms such as <em>barbie</em> and <em>smoko</em> are like accents – part of the glue that sticks Australian English speakers together.</p>
<p> </p>
<h2>Are -ie/y endings darlings or weaklings?</h2>
<p>Diminutives can die out when they take on the burden of new social meanings. One of the oldest endings (found as far back as Anglo-Saxon times) is <em>-ling</em>. We see it still on words like <em>twinkling</em> and <em>darling</em>. However, by modern times it had flipped and become contemptuous, especially when used of humans (think of <em>weakling</em> and <em>underling</em>).</p>
<p>In contrast to <em>-ling</em>, our <em>-ie/-y</em> endings carry important, positive meanings, and there’s no sign yet that we’re giving up on them. Those <em>sunnies</em>, <em>scungies</em>, <em>boardies</em>, <em>cozzies</em>, <em>stubbies</em> and <em>trackies</em> are still the stuff of our sartorial summer fashion.</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/get-yer-hand-off-it-mate-australian-slang-is-not-dying-90022">Slang</a> might come and go, but the process that transforms <em>sunglasses</em> into <em>sunnies</em> and <em>tracksuit pants</em> into <em>trackies</em> continues to thrive.</p>
<p>So thriving in fact are these expressions that some are among Australia’s <a href="http://www.bbc.com/culture/story/20150427-pervs-greenies-and-ratbags">successful exports</a>. International celebrities include <em>greenie</em>, <em>pollie</em>, <em>surfie</em>, <em>mozzie</em>, <em>budgie</em> (and its offshoot <em>budgie smugglers</em>).</p>
<p>And let’s not forget the linguistic rockstar that is <em>selfie</em> – its meteoric rise to stardom in 2013 saw it crowned <a href="https://edition.cnn.com/2013/11/19/living/selfie-word-of-the-year/index.html">Word of the Year</a> by Oxford Dictionaries, and also by the Van Dale dictionary in the Netherlands.</p>
<p>We are, however, constantly refreshing our stock of <em>-ie/y</em> words. Many of the gems in Wendy Allen’s 1980s collection of youth slang in Melbourne (<em>Teenage speech</em>) have bitten the dust (for example, <em>scottie</em> from “he’s got no friends” -> “s’got no friends” -> “s’got + ie”).</p>
<p>But the second edition of the Australian National Dictionary shows us how many <em>-ie/y</em> words have proliferated since the 1980s/1990s (<em>firie</em>, <em>tradie</em>, <em>trackie daks</em>).</p>
<h2>Bottle-o, milko and smoko: still alive-o?</h2>
<p>That other long-time favourite ending <em>-o</em> occurs all round the English-speaking world. However, as the Oxford English Dictionary describes, its use “is especially associated with Australia”.</p>
<p>The earliest Australian examples (like <em>milko</em>, <em>rabbito</em>, <em>bottle-o</em>) date from the 19th century and are abbreviated nouns referring to a person’s trade (“milkman”, “rabbit-seller” “bottle-collector”). Sometimes they appear with <em>-oh</em> because of their association with street calls, and this use is old – think of those cockles and mussels of 18th century London, all very much “alive, alive-oh”.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Our love of this <em>-o</em> suffix may also owe something to Irish English. However, Australian linguist <a href="https://www.degruyter.com/document/doi/10.1515/9783110208412.2.398/html?lang=en">Jane Simpson</a> points out it has much wider applications in Australia (and New Zealand), as shown by place names such as <em>Rotto</em> (Rottnest Island), <em>Freo</em> (Fremantle), <em>Paddo</em> (Paddington) and common nouns such as <em>compo</em> (compensation), <em>ambo</em> (ambulance driver) and <em>bowlo</em> (bowling club). And we’re exporting these too – <em>demo</em>, <em>preggo</em> and <em>muso</em> have made it into the wider world.</p>
<p>As with <em>-ie/y</em> endings, our <em>-o</em> endings don’t seem to be going anywhere in a hurry. However, their long-term survival seems slightly less assured than <em>-ie/y</em>. We’re still seeing newer coinages (such as <em>housos</em>), but a <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/241095924_Did_you_have_a_choccie_bickie_this_arvo_A_quantitative_look_at_Australian_hypocoristics">2011 study</a> suggests young people might be using this one less than previous generations.</p>
<h2>Rellies or rellos, garbies or garbos: is there a pattern?</h2>
<p>There are <em>wharfies</em> and <em>truckies</em> but not <em>wharfos</em> and <em>truckos</em>; <em>garbos</em> and <em>musos</em> but not <em>garbies</em> and <em>musies</em>. People who ride motorcycles are generally <em>bikers</em>; those who belong to motorcycle gangs tend to be <em>bikies</em>.</p>
<p>So what’s wrong with <em>bikos</em>? And why are there gaps? Those who build houses are neither <em>buildos</em> nor <em>buildies</em>.</p>
<p>Undoubtedly there are nuanced differences of meaning involved here. Does <em>weirdie</em> describe unconventional people more affectionately than <em>weirdo</em>, or even <em>weird person</em>? Certainly there’s a world of difference between the <em>sicko</em> (psychologically sick person) and the <em>sickie</em> (leave you take when you’re sick – or is that when you’re not sick?).</p>
<p>You tell us: do you prefer a <em>lammo</em> or a <em>lammie</em> for the small chocolate and coconut–covered cake? And are members of your family <em>rellos</em> or <em>rellies</em>? There’s a lot of lexicographers, linguists and other word nerds who haven’t figured this out.<!-- Below is The Conversation's page counter tag. Please DO NOT REMOVE. --><img style="border: none !important; box-shadow: none !important; margin: 0 !important; max-height: 1px !important; max-width: 1px !important; min-height: 1px !important; min-width: 1px !important; opacity: 0 !important; outline: none !important; padding: 0 !important;" src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/192616/count.gif?distributor=republish-lightbox-basic" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" /><!-- End of code. If you don't see any code above, please get new code from the Advanced tab after you click the republish button. The page counter does not collect any personal data. More info: https://theconversation.com/republishing-guidelines --></p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/kate-burridge-130136">Kate Burridge</a>, Professor of Linguistics, <em><a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/monash-university-1065">Monash University</a></em> and <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/howard-manns-111255">Howard Manns</a>, Senior Lecturer in Linguistics, <em><a href="https://theconversation.com/institutions/monash-university-1065">Monash University</a></em></p>
<p>This article is republished from <a href="https://theconversation.com">The Conversation</a> under a Creative Commons license. Read the <a href="https://theconversation.com/brekkies-barbies-mozzies-why-do-aussies-shorten-so-many-words-192616">original article</a>.</p>
<p><em>Image: Getty</em></p>
