Littlewoods, once best known for selling nylon cardigans and elasticated trousers, has been busy trying to update its image. When they drafted Trinny and Susannah, it seemed like they were following a tried and tested blueprint of celebrity endorsement. However, this week things took a turn for the surreal.

On the face of it, the latest television campaign for the company's online store seemed like that of any other high street fashion giant. However, somewhere along the line an advertising executive wondered aloud about the possibility of using Esperanto – and, perhaps thinking the English language was just far too humdrum for their new look brand, Littlewoods said yes.

David Inglis, who had the unfortunate job of explaining the thinking behind the decision, admitted speakers of the language invented by a Polish opthalmologist were a niche audience, but insisted it
reflected the beauty and style of the clothes.

For the often overlooked Esperanto Association of Britain, the screening of the advert last night has created a unexpected wave of interest.

"What is it people say? There's no such thing as bad publicity," says EAB secretary David Kelso, who learnt Esperanto as a teenager because it seemed like a good idea at the time. "I'm old enough to remember the 1960s when the Pentagon released a training film in which the enemy spoke Esperanto. I suppose it made sense, apart from Latin or ancient Greek, any other choice would have offended someone. However, this Littlewoods ad is a bit of a mystery. You'd have thought we might have been approached to help with the pronunciation, but no one has been in contact. I haven't yet seen it myself, but some of my colleagues have suggested that it's not pure Esperanto."

Despite the apparent snub, David and his team are hopeful Ludwig Zamehoff, the man who invented the language in the hope it would further international peace and understanding in the late 19th-century, may yet become a household name.

"It's estimated there are around one million speakers worldwide," he says. "But it's impossible to give an exact figure. It's like asking how many people play the mouth organ.

"However, we do know that it's spoken in 100 countries and it is a great leveller. Whenever I go abroad I have great fun tracking down fellow speakers. It's not like speaking French to an Albanian or Spanish in Mexico, when you have a conversation in Esperanto both of you own the language."

Popular in the 1960s, Esperanto has fallen off the usual list of nightclass subjects, but thanks to the internet the online community is thriving.

"I'm not into computers myself, but you can now learn Esperanto online and email has given people a way to use the language on a daily basis," says Audrey Duereden, treasure of the EAB's Yorkshire and Humber branch which this year celebrates it centenary.

"People do sometimes make fun of Esperanto, but I think it does have its uses. All nouns end in an o, all verbs end in an i, it's not like English where the spelling often doesn't help the pronunciation. There's no 'roughs' or 'coughs' in Esperanto, everything is phonetic. In England, it's difficult to get anyone to learn another language, even something widely used like French, so there is never going to be a massive take-up, but if you go to countries like China and Japan it's been embraced with a great deal more enthusiasm."

This weekend, the world convention of Esperanto speakers will take place in Rotterdam, but while the meeting may be buoyed by news of the Littlewoods Direct advert, those hoping it will spark a resurgence would be best advised not to hold their breath.

Back in 1965, director Leslie Stephens decided to make a horror film performed entirely in Esperanto and starring Star Trek's William Shatner. The result, Incubus, didn't exactly set the critics alight and has since become better known for the curse which saw two of the cast commit suicide and the production company go bust.