Imagine that one day you ate something really foul, like a pulled-pork sandwich from a gas station, and got sick. While sick, you ended up taking a shit in the middle of your living space, but for some reason never bothered to clean it up. In some weird way, you grew fond of that pile of shit in your living space and named it after a famous historical figure.
However, over time, that pile of shit started to make your friends a little uncomfortable when every trashy person in Lower Bucks County and Northeast Philly start taking shits in your living space as well. So, you spray-painted all the shits a different color and bought some Fabreze for the living space, then as an added bonus, you renamed it after the town or city in which you live. It’s still a massive pile of various shit, just a different color, a masked odor, and called something other than a massive pile of shit.
That’s how I feel about Franklin Mills changing its name to Philadelphia Mills.