Some words have textures
Yes they do.
Try saying haberdashery a few times and you can feel it roll around awkwardly in your mouth till you have to either spit it out or gulp it down, whole. I have a lot of problem with words that have to be pushed out instead of coming off silky smooth from my mouth. Imagine having to say potential twice in the same sentence. It never sounds the same. In fact it sounds a lot angrier the second time as if my tongue is having a hard time getting it to sit right. On a good day metropolis sounds just about right but on a bad day…woah, you don’t want to hear me say it.
My favourite word in the last century was rendezvous. I fell in love with it the day I learned to pronounce it correctly. And since then I’ve always tried hard to put it into every conversation of mine. This century it has taken back seat to protagonist. There’s so much old-fashioned majesty in the word, protagonist. It doesn’t need a sentence to prop it up. It’s fine alone like a hero from a Shakespearean tragedy standing up to an unkind world with tear stained cheeks and quivering lips. It’s texture? Definitely, salty and coarse.
The word which wins hands down in texture is velvet. Sit in a quiet corner, then take a deep breath and finally say it …softly at first and then a little louder. Then feel the air around become heavy with a feeling of luxurious decadence. And if you add the word gown after you’ve said velvet then you can almost hear the music and the sounds of bacchanalian revelry. Oh no, nothing less. Because once you’ve said velvet gown it’s like you’ve opened the cellar doors wide to the world.