Category: baby name Iris
Nothing signals the end of a long, harsh winter more than the first bursts of color popping up in the garden. Or—if you’re a city dweller, it might be the whiff of fragrant lilacs wafting up from the vases lined up in grocery store sidewalk displays. Many of these flowers have wonderfully evocative names, from the popular Lily to the more exotic Azalea. Here are 10 of the most appealing.By Linda Rosenkrantz
The Nameberry Nine by Abby Sandel
Let’s talk about vowels.
The letter A is wildly popular, #1 for girls and #2 for boys according to the most recent analysis at Nancy’s Baby Names. As I looked through this week’s birth announcements and baby name news, it seemed like the letter A is everywhere.
E trails a few places behind A, fifth overall for girls and eighth for boys.
It wasn’t always like this. Look at the data for the 1920s or 1950s. None of the Top Ten names for either gender start with a vowel. But in recent years, names like Andrew, Ethan, Emma, Olivia, Abigail, and Isabella have dominated the lists of most common names.
A has a strong lead, with Alexander, Ava, and Aiden in the current Top Ten. Our affection isn’t limited to the first letter of the alphabet.Owen, Eli, Isaiah, and Easton are all rapidly rising favorites for our sons. For daughters, there’s Eva and Ella, plus lots of names with the Ev- and El– sound, and up-and-comers like Isla and Olive.
The vowel-centric names in the baby name news last week included:
Italy – Parents continue to search the map for meaningful, attractive place names for their children. Italy is an intriguing option. She’s part-Avery, part-Isabelle, and very much a destination with a positive vibe. For Real Baby Names spotted a birth announcement for Italy Margie Anne, but I think this is a gender neutral possibility.
Do you ever imagine an alternate life? Specifically, what you might have been named, or what you might have named your children if your life was just slightly different?
My husband’s taste in given names is buckets more conservative than mine. From the color of their eyes to the shape of their toes, I cannot imagine our children even a scintilla changed. And yet imagine just one twist in life’s journey, and all of a sudden they’re Dexter and Domino instead of Alex and Clio.
The given name that I so actively disliked as a child was chosen, in large part, because of a clumsy surname, poorly exported into English without harmonizing the improbable consonant clusters. What if my parents had decided to overlook the glaring limitations of a let-me-spell-it-for-you last name? Or what if my ancestors had blanded out their surname to something that accommodated any number of appellations?