When I was pregnant with my now 3 year old son, I knew from the day the stick turned pink that he was a boy. Finding a name for him was just as simple for me, but getting my husband to agree was a little bit of a different story …

Rewind about 10 years (I was barely a teenager) when I read a book in which I completely fell in love with the main character, Prince Nikolai, who went by Nick. I decided that when I had a son someday I would name him Nicholas and call him Nick. I never wavered from this decision, even when I started dating a Nick at the age of 16.

When I ended up marrying the same Nick I had dated throughout high school and we started thinking about having a baby, he was completely against re-using his name for his child. I was devastated, but there was another name I had my eye on: Boston. I loved the way Boston sounded, I loved that it had a preppy feel to it, and I could see it on a little boy, a teenager, and an adult. Nick wasn’t crazy about the name Boston, so I waited until the time was right to bring it up again.

While I was pregnant, we were listening to the radio and the song “Austin” by Blake Shelton came on. … And P.S. if this is Austin, I still love you. I’m sure you’ve heard it… If you haven’t, then we just can’t be friends anymore [insert sarcasm here]. We both sang along to the song and said it was one of our favorites. Nick thought for a minute and said, “What about Austin?” I nodded my head, smiled and said, “You know… Boston is just Austin with a B.” Simple as that, and he agreed. I didn’t think it’d be that easy, but it was!

We decided early on that Boston’s middle name was going to be James, but then we made the mistake of telling people his name. My sister-in-law did not like the name Boston at all. She did everything she could to get us to change it, but we didn’t waver… until she said she’d just call him BJ because she absolutely refused to call him Boston. I fixed that. We changed his middle name. With a few bats of the eyelashes and a “pretty please,” my husband agreed to give his name as his son’s middle name. (Okay… so it took a lot more than that – We considered everything from James Boston to Boston Matthew before he finally agreed to Nicholas).

Everyone thinks that Boston’s middle name is for his father, but I know better. His middle name has a double meaning for my childhood literary-love!

Chantal, thank you so very much!  Better still, Chantal has promised to share the story of her daughter’s name, too.

Photo by me and the sysop via Flickr

Looking for name that is both a literary and a Biblical heavy hitter?

Thanks to Marlene for suggesting one that fits the bill.  Our Baby Name of the Day is Ishmael.

Ishmael has a distinctive sound, one that isn’t found in too many names.  (Alicia and company are the glaring exception.)  But the -ael ending is fairly common.  Michael and Raphael both spring to mind, and other popular names, like Gabriel, Samuel, and Nathaniel are similar, too.

If not the sound, could it be the meaning?  Nope.  Ishmael comes from the Hebrew for God will hear, or maybe God has heard – and this child is the answer.  After all, the Old Testament Ishmael is the much-longed for son of Abraham.

Oh, wait – maybe that is the problem.  After all, Abraham has another son – Isaac - afterwards, and Isaac is the one who inherits, making Ishmael the also-ran, eventually sent away.

Depending on your history, Ishmael became the father of the Arabs, including eventually the prophet Muhammad, making him a big deal in Islam.  He’s slightly less significant in Judaism – there’s speculation that Ishmael got the boot for living large, not just for offering a rival to Isaac.

But in Christianity, Ishmael seems to be largely synonymous with outcast, with emphasis on his dismissal.  And this leads us to the most famous bearer of the name, the fictional narrator of Herman Melville’s classic fish tale Moby-Dick.

Published in 1851, Moby-Dick is the story of Captain Ahab and the whale he seeks.  The narrator introduces himself with the memorable opening line “Call me Ishmael,” but we never learn if it is his real name.  He’s highly educated and keenly aware that going to sea was a sort of self-imposed banishment, not unlike the Biblical figure.  It’s led to speculation that the narrator’s phrasing “Call me …” was intentional, since he reveals little about himself.

The story’s success wasn’t enough to make American parents embrace Ishmael, though he’s long hovered at the edge of the Top 1000, making his most recent appearance in 1998.

The Spanish version of the name – Ismael - tells a different story.  Ismael ranked #362 in the US last year, a steadily used name.  In Spain, Ismael was quite popular just a few years ago, and still hovers near the Top 50.  He’s still on the rise in France, nearing the Top 100.

Ismael’s success might be attributed to Spanish or Islamic influence, though the ordinary spelling in most Arab languages is Ismail or sometimes Esmail, worn by rulers and politicians, athletes and actors.

All of this leaves Ishmael at sea.  He sounds very religious, the kind of Old Testament appellation non-believing parents often avoid.  But if you are looking for a name from the Judeo-Christian tradition, you’ll only use Ishmael if the story of his exile isn’t a concern – and that’s less likely.  Ismael and Ismail have an appealing sound, but probably only work for families considering them as heritage choices.

A young adult novel and a work of philosophical fiction also bear the name, but they have not changed our perceptions.

And so Ishmael remains on his own.  This makes him either the choice you’ve been looking for – the literary, Biblical name that isn’t as popular as Noah and Elijah - or one whose story puts him on the not-quite list.

Casimir II; Image via Wikipedia

He’s a Slavic import with a certain dashing style.

Thanks to Larkin for suggesting Casimir as our Baby Name of the Day.

Casimir comes from two apparently contradictory elements.  Mir means peace, but kazic means to destroy.  The original sense is probably something like “one who destroys the peace of his enemy,” but modern parents could focus on the peaceful part.

You can hear both French and Polish pronunciations here.  In English, kaz EH meer is probably closest.

Polish kings, nobles, and a saint have answered to the original form of the name, Kazimierz.  Neighbors in Pomerania had adopted it by the twelfth century, but it would be centuries until he reached Western Europe.

The quartet of Polish rulers make for a relatively admirable bunch.  Casimir III established the Jagiellonian University in Cracow in the 1300s, the oldest university in Poland and among the oldest in the world.

But perhaps Casimir IV’s son – the future saint – is the one that helped the name spread.  He was expected to inherit the Polish throne, and even served as vice-regent in his father’s absence.  But Casimir wasn’t willing to marry, and spent much of his time fasting.  He died in 1484, while visiting Lithuania.  He’s the patron saint of Poland, Lithuania, and youth.

A German prince is called Johann Casimir in the late 1500s, and over the next few hundred years, the name goes global:

• Spanish-born Casimiro Diaz evangelized the Philippines in the early eighteenth century.
• He’s also found in France by the eighteenth century, where Casimir, Comte de Montrond, was involved in various diplomatic affairs.
• Born Louis-Casimir Escoffer and known as Casimir Ney, the nineteenth century French composer was a master at viola.
• Casimir Dudevant was the French nobleman best known for marrying Aurore Dupin – the future George Sand.
• Count Kasimir Felix Badeni was a Polish aristocrat, who played a key role in administering the Austro-Hungarian Empire administration, though he was not particularly adept at his work.
• Casimiro de Abreu was a Brazilian-born poet who flourished in Portugal in the mid-nineteenth century.
• Casimiro is also in use in Italy around the same time, with a powerful Italian-born cardinal called Casimiro Gennari.
• Jean Casimir Guyon was a French surgeon and pioneer in urology in the early years of the twentieth century.

Casimir had a good run in France, peaking in the 1930s.  But in the 1970s, an orange dinosaur called Casimir dominated children’s television.  Just like Barney struggles to overcome his associations with a purple T-Rex in the US, I suspect it has put a damper on the name.

In the US, Casimir appeared at the fringes of the Top 1000 into the 1930s, but today is simply unknown.

Short form Cass leans a little girlish, though Cas, pronounced Kaz, is almost cowboy.  And if you think you’re likely to use all three syllables, just like so many kids called Sebastian and Isabelle do, then there’s no barrier to Casimir.  It’s a great Slavic option with plenty of history and style.

You might not recognize Lady Gaga or Katy Perry, and you’re forgiven if you can’t tell the difference between Coldplay and Franz Ferdinand.  But very few of us don’t instantly know a Beatles song.  Plenty of the titles are pleasing appellations, and even more names are mentioned in their lyrics.

Abbey – The legendary Abbey Road, one of the most successful in a long string of successful recordings brings to mind the mega-popular Abigail, a Biblical good girl that shortens to Abby.  Abbey Road is a real place, pictured on the iconic album cover and home to Abbey Road Studios – hence, the name.  There’s no song with Abby in the lyrics, but there’s a Beatles link that might still appeal.

Clarabella – Okay, I take it back.  You might not recognize “Clarabella.”  Originally written for and recorded by another pop group in the 1960s, the fab four performed this one live on the BBC in 1963.  It would be decades before it was released as a recording.  If you like frilly valentines like Arabella and Elisabetta, Clarabella has a lot of appeal – plus you get to tell those who ask that you named your girl after an obscure Beatles song.

Desmond - The single “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” is tremendous fun, and instantly recognizable, but the writing team quarreled over the lyrics and it was never performed live by the quartet.  Desmond, however, has another musical link – it is said that Paul McCartney was referring to reggae great Desmond Dekker.

Eleanor – She’s not a happy figure, dying lonely at the end of the song, but the haunting song is certainly memorable.

Harrison – Name your son John, Paul, or George doesn’t scream Fab Four.  (Though Ringo would raise a few eyebrows.)  In our age of Jackson and Carson, George’s surname isn’t necessarily a tribute, either – making it a subtle option for a superfan.

Jude – Said to be originally written for John’s son Julian, “Hey Jude” is both a single and an album title.  It’s a musical note for the Old Testament Judah, but this is no mere nickname.  Thanks to the song and Hollywood A-lister Jude Law, this name stands on its own.

Julia – Like Clarabella, this is a serious rarity, but a meaningful one.  A solo composition by John Lennon, it was written in memory of his mother, Julia.  She died in an accident when he was just seventeen.

Lennon – Maybe it is a family surname for some, but surely the majority of families who have chosen the name are thinking of the legendary John Lennon.  Lennon entered the US Top 1000 for boys in 2008 and now stands at #918.  That’s not exactly Landon, but he is catching on.  Depending on who you ask, the surname means sweetheart, blackbird, or cape.

Lucy – Despite assumptions that “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” was a not-too-veiled drug reference, the official story is that John’s son Julian drew a picture at school with the title, inspired by classmate Lucy O’Donnell.  Of course, with Lucy at #75 in 2010, the only sure signal that a little Lucy was named after the song?  If her middle name is Sky or Diamond.

Martha – A gentle love song dominated by the piano track, the explanations for Martha are several.  One indisputable fact: Paul McCartney had a sheepdog called Martha.

Maxwell – Like Lucy, this name’s popularity isn’t necessarily tied to “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer.”  Unlike Lucy, you can’t quite imagine parents being inspired by the lyrics.  After all, Max offs his crush, a teacher, and finally the judge who tries to bring him to justice.

Michelle – Now firmly in the mom names camp – and, of course, the White House – Michelle was already popular when The Beatles released their ballad in 1965.  “Michelle, ma belle …” had its origins in French bohemian culture, an influence from Lennon and McCartney’s school days.  Today parents are more likely to be inspired by Belle.

Molly - Also from “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da,” but unlike Desmond, we’re not quite certain why that’s the name given to the wife and singer in the band.

Pamela – The poetic Pamela becomes “Polythene Pam” in a 1969 single, inspired by two things: an early fan, and some less-than-G rated exploits John Lennon remembered.  Still, “she’s killer diller when she’s dressed to the hilt.”  Pam is also mentioned in “Mean Mr. Mustard” on the album.

Penelope – Penny Lane is a street in Liverpool, and a bus route, too.  It owes nothing to the Greek Penelope – instead, Penny was the surname of an eighteenth century Liverpool merchant and slave trader, a fact that had been forgotten until recent years.  Penny has an enduring innocence, thanks not just to the song, but also to characters like the orphan girl in 1977′s animated Disney film The Rescuers.  She picked up some serious edge in 2000 when Almost Famous introduced Kate Hudson as rock groupie Penny Lane.

Prudence - With girls answering to Grace and Faith, why not this virtue name?  “Dear Prudence” was inspired by a real person – Prudence Farrow, sister of actress Mia, and a fellow yoga student during their time in India.  Prudence was so intent on her study that she became a near-recluse.  The song was John’s attempt to lure her back to the group.

Rita – Would you name your daughter after a meter maid?  Apparently McCartney was inspired to pen “Lovely Rita” after receiving a parking ticket in front of Abbey Road studios.  There’s also Hollywood icon Rita Hayworth – born Margarita - making the name a companion for Natalie and Audrey.

Sadie – Originally an affectionate form of Sarah, Sadie has risen fast on her own, inspiring parents to consider other vintage nicknames like Hattie.  Unlike many of the names in Beatles’ songs, though, there is apparently no real Sadie – sexy or otherwise.

Sally – “Long Tall Sally” was originally a hit for Little Richard back in the 1956.  The Beatles recorded a cover in their early days and it remains popular.  Like Sadie, Sally is derived from Sarah – also like Sadie, if there was a real-life Sally, she is lost to the mists of time.

Have I overlooked any great names from Beatles songs?  Would you use any of these – and if so, is it a tribute to the song or mere coincidence?

Photo by ambernectar via Flickr

It’s a classic cocktail and a medieval appellation.  Would it be a possibility today?

Thanks to Findley for suggesting Pimm as our Baby Name of the Day.

I first encountered Pimm as a nickname for the heroine’s friend in the chick lit-ish Me Times Three.  Then it was a mysterious concoction favored by all of the posh socialite types in Madeleine Wickham novels.

Pimm’s is a gin-based liqueur, touted as medicinal by inventor James Pimm in the 1820s.  The original drink is Pimm’s No. 1 Cup.  As the company expanded, additional blends were added, all with a number.  Although it is now owned by global spirits conglomerate Diageo, Pimm’s still has a certain cachet – at least from an American perspective – thanks to its associations with Wimbledon, polo, and all things English country house.

The surname predates James Pimm, found on families back to the Middle Ages.  There are two possible – and possibly overlapping – origins.

First Pimm could come from Euphemia - a Greek name that literally translates to “good speech.”  The second-century martyr St. Euphemia is a major figure in Eastern Christianity.  Chances are that she came to the attention of the English-speaking world thanks to the Crusades starting in the late eleventh century.  The saint’s relics were captured by Crusaders, and her name begins to appear throughout Western Europe around the same time.

Effie and Phemie are the logical short forms of Euphemia, but why Pimm?  It may have simply been a corruption, or it may come from the Middle English tendency to pronounce every letter.  Many medieval Euphemias actually spelled their name with an f – Effemy is one vernacular form.  Pymme, Pimme, and Pimm are all found, too.

Second, it could be derived from a Saxon masculine name Pymma.  But whether your surname related to the Saxons or developed later would be difficult to say.  A number of sites conflate the two, even though several centuries separate them.

There’s another masculine origin for Pimm.  In Dutch, he’s a short form of Willem.  Just like the English William can answer to Bill, Willem becomes Wim and Wim has morphed into Pim.  Anne Frank and her sister Margot used this nickname for their father, though his given name was Otto.

Today you might catch financial journalist Pimm Fox of Bloomberg News – I’m not certain how he came by his unusual name.

You won’t likely meet a child named Pimm, though.  It was given to fewer than five girls or boys in 2010, and has never registered in the US Top 1000.  It’s so little used that gender is impossible to assign.  On the one hand, Pimm has the same sweet simplicity as Nell or Ann.  On the other hand, with short names like Finn and Flynn on the rise for boys, parents are considering choices like Penn or perhaps even Pimm.

The alcoholic associations are probably why more parents haven’t landed on this particular sound, but there’s enough history here to consider Pimm a possible choice in the middle spot.  Or, if you dare, a simple, crisp given name that you can explain has origins that date back to well before happy hour.

But I did not love the idea of calling him Alex, and I was quietly hopeful that another nickname would stick.

My first attempt was Alexei, but I was timid about my preference, and over the years, it didn’t catch.  I wasn’t sure how to spell it.  My Russian is exactly adequate enough for me to understand that I was taking liberties.  Should I spell his name Alexy?  Maybe Aleksy?

That last one – Aleksy – is Polish, as is my husband’s family.  I secretly hoped that they’d simple things up for me by imposing the nickname.  More fool I.  When they met their new grandson, they called him Oluš, which sounds something like oh LOOSH.  Oops.

I was starting to feel a little bit like Gretchen in Mean Girls, when Regina tells her “stop trying to make fetch happen.”  There was one moment of satisfaction, when Aly chose Alexei for the back of his hockey jersey.  But it was fleeting.

Plus it turns out that if your name is familiar, and there’s a logical nickname, many people will default to that form.  Katherine used to be Kathy on instinct.  Today I would guess that any girl named Katherine probably answers to Kate.  If you actually prefer to be called Kit or Trinny or Kay, well … it will take some doing.  Ditto Alexander.  If you’re going to sell Xan or Zane or Xander as a familiar version, it will require repetition – and confidence.

As fate would have it, Alexander pretty much re-christened himself Aly.  There was one memorable incident when another mom at a playground sputtered, “I thought he was a boy!” when I called his name.  And Arabic friends-of-friends hesitated and asked if his name was Ali – I suppose that would taking some explaining.

But mostly, Aly skipped through nursery school to pre-kindergarten and right into kindergarten without a thought.  Some of it is place-specific.  We live just outside of Washington DC.  I’ve argued before that there’s no such thing as a normal name.  Move to a major metropolitan area and that’s even more true.  Plenty of kids in our ‘hood have names that fail to chart in the US Top 1000.

I was thrilled with Aly, and it was easy for his baby sister to pronounce, too.  Aly and Clio – his name wasn’t too masculine, hers wasn’t too feminine.  We’re not the kind of parents to have kids called Slade Ryker and Arianna Maribelle.

And then something changed.  Aly left the house for kindergarten, but Alex came back in the afternoons.  A classmate told him that Aly was a girl’s name.

The classmate’s name?  A boy called Delaney.

Around the time he turned six, he started to roll his eyes and say, “Girl name!” every time I called him Aly.  I tried to explain.

He was not interested, not even a tiny bit.

So now he’s Alex most of the time, at least in public.  He’s still Aly to me at home.  There are two other Alexes close in age in his school, but none in his year.  Rather than being bothered by the other two, he seems to find it kind of fun.

Alex is my constant reminder that even though we put the names on our children’s birth certificates, we only control what they’re called for a fleeting moment.  Eventually they do find their own names – and it isn’t always exactly what we imagined.  But then, so much of parenting is like that, and it turns out that the fun isn’t choosing and deciding, but watching how our children navigate the world on their own.

Image via Wikipedia

You wouldn’t name your son Fuzzy Wuzzy or Yogi, but there are an awful lot of great boy names that bring to mind bears.  Some literally mean bear, while others have been worn by a famous ursine.

Let’s start with names that literally mean bear – or at least could mean bear.

Arthur - After years of being relegated to the grandpa set, Arthur has reclaimed his regal roots.  First Courtney Cox’s character on Cougar Town mentioned it as the name she had in mind for a possible son.  Then Selma Blair chose it for her newborn son in 2011.  While the name’s meaning is debated, one of the more popular theories is that Arthur comes from the Celtic artos - bear.  Harry Potter – er, I meant Daniel Radcliffe – plays a young lawyer named Arthur in the upcoming thriller The Woman in Black.

Orson – Orson Scott Card is a sci-fi legend, the author of Ender’s Game, among others, and Orson Welles was a Hollywood legend.  Originally a surname derived from the Latin ursus via the French ors, Orson was more common in the nineteenth century than today.  With boys answering to Carson and Oliver, he’s not a huge stretch. Whether his easily overlooked ursine roots is a problem or a plus, well … that’s up to you.

Dov – He brings to mind an animal, but it isn’t a growly bear.  Dove - the symbol of peace – could be an intriguing pick for the middle spot.  But Dov is a Hebrew name that literally translates to bear, much like Zev means lion.  American Apparel founder Dov Charney could’ve given his name some serious Hebrew hipster cred, but Charney’s turned out to be too controversial to boost his name.

Benno - He sounds like a spin on the Biblical Benjamin, but he’s actually a cousin to Bernard - from the Germanic bern - bear.  Names like Leo and Milo are at the height of fashion, and nickname Ben lets your boy lose the -o if he’s so inclined.

Berlin – The city’s name may – or may not – come from the German word for the animal, but it doesn’t much matter.  There’s a bear in the coat of arms, and the Berlin International Film Festival bestows the Goldener Bär – the Golden Bear – to its best film.  If you’re looking for a cosmopolitan borrowing from the map with an ursine tie, Berlin is it.

But how ’bout names that just make us think of bears?

Teddy – Original a diminutive of Theodore or sometimes Edward - neither of which have anything to do with bears – Teddy took on a different connotation thanks to a political cartoon featuring then-President Theodore Roosevelt.  The story goes like this: Roosevelt was on a hunting trip and declined to shoot a defenseless bear.  (Nevermind that the bear was defenseless because the hunting party had been chasing it …)  In any case, an aspiring toy maker spotted the cartoon and made a stuffed bear called Teddy.  The rest is history.

Then there are the names of famous bears.  The most famous bears don’t have particularly wearable appellations.  Is anyone really thinking about Paddington or Winnie the Pooh?  But there are a handful.

Rupert – A British comic strip staple, Rupert has been adapted for books and television.  On a less innocent note, he also inspired the name of Stewie’s teddy bear on Family Guy.  In the US, the association isn’t well known, and other Ruperts – like the young actor who played Ron in the Harry Potter franchise – might be better known.

Barney – An animated bear from a series of shorts in the 1930 and 40s, the ever-ready to hibernate Barney Bear had a second life in comic books, and was still appearing in new material in the 1980s.  But like Rupert, Barney isn’t likely to scream bear to modern parents or kids.  Purple dinosaurs and sitcom Lotharios are more of an issue.

Aloysius – The beloved bear from Brideshead Revisited, Aloysius is a throwback appellation with a literary twist.  If you’re going for a barely-there bear name, he’s a good option … assuming you’re daring enough to put Aloysius on your list.

Lastly, what about the just sticking with the name Bear, as in Coach Bear Bryant - born Paul William - or Alicia Silverstone’s little guy, Bear Blu?  While animal names can be dismissed as silly, outlandish choices, their history of use is impressive.  There’s a reason so many names conjure up the wild kingdom – the best qualities of animals have inspired parents for millenia.  Bear is a legitimate option, symbolizing strength, and standing in for places from Germany to Russia to the state of California.

There you go – lots of possibilities for your little cub!

Image via Wikipedia

We have daughters named Ruby and Pearl, Gemma and Jewel, so why not this sparkling appellation?

Thanks to Marianne and Larkin for suggesting Garnet as our Baby Name of the Day.

Before you dismiss Garnet as another modern wacky noun name akin to Apple or Blue, check out the statistics.  Garnet ranked in the US Top 1000 most years from 1884 through 1944, and I’ve stumbled across elaborations like Garnetta.  Her best decades were from the 1900s and 1910s, so she’s on track for a 100-year revival.

Garnets have been prized since as early as 3000 BC.  They don’t have to be red, but we associate them with the color.  In fact, garnet comes from the French word grenat, referring to dark red, originally from the Latin granatum.  There’s a decent case that the color words relate to the pomegranate, the dark red fruit that figures in the myth of Persephone.

This lends some ancient and elemental heft to Garnet.  She’s less showy than Diamond or Emerald, more mineral than dazzling jewel.  Garnet is the birthstone for the month of January, making her a subtle seasonal choice, too.

While Garnet’s gemstone status pushes this one into the feminine category today, that wasn’t always the case.  Garnet – and Garnett and Garnette - also have a history as surnames, either for jewelers, or possibly for makers of hinges.  The cross-garnet hinge looks like the letter T, and was around well into the American colonial period and beyond.

Lastly, I’ve found a few attempts to connect Garnet to Guarin, an Old French name meaning protector, derived from the Germanic warin – guard.  It feels like a stretch, but it isn’t completely implausible.

With the surname connection, it should come as no surprise that Garnet has a history of use for men.  Like many unisex names, it was used in the same era it was popular for girls.  Garnet ranked in the US Top 1000 for boys a handful of times between 1882 and 1924.

A few notable Garnets include:

• British Army Field Marshal Garnet Wolseley, known for his service in Africa in the 1870s and 1880s.  Such was his reputation for efficiency and order that “everything’s all Sir Garnet” became a phrase meaning that all was in order.  Wolsley was parodied by Gilbert and Sullivan with their catchy tune about the “very model of a modern Major-General.”
• World War I flying ace Garnet Malley, later an advisor to Chiang Kai-shek.

Today Garnet’s feel is almost at home with boys’ names like Garrett, Everett, Emmett and Bennett.  But with ends-in-et is big for girls, too, with choices like Juliet, Scarlett and Violet in vogue.  Factor in Garnet’s gemstone and color connections, and this one starts to feel slightly better suited for Team Pink.

But mostly Garnet is a 21st century rarity.  In 2010 just five girls received the name, along with seven boys called Garnett. That’s impressively unusual, and suggests that you could use it for either gender.  I love Isadora’s description: It’s also unisex in the best possible way. I wouldn’t think, “Oh, they must have wanted a boy,” if parents gave this name to their daughter. And I wouldn’t worry about a son getting picked on.

Overall, Garnet is colorful, unusual, and has more history than you might expect from a nature name.

Fraser Coat of Arms; Image via Wikipedia

He’s a surname that nods to Scotland, and to the great outdoors.

Thanks to Fran for suggesting Fraser as our Baby Name of the Day.

The best guess is that Fraser – and Frasier, Frazer, and Frazier – are Scottish surnames of Gaelic origin, with enough Anglo-Norman influence that as they were whispered down the alley, the original name was lost to memory.

Regardless of where he started, Fraser is solidly established as a common Scottish surname.  There’s a Clan Fraser, and Lord Lovat is a title in the peerage of Scotland reserved for the head of the clan.  They’re present throughout much of Scottish history.

If you glance at the Fraser coat of arms, you’ll notice that there are strawberries included in the design.  Some sites list Fraser’s meaning as strawberry; it is more likely that strawberries were added to their coat of arms later, as a play on fraises - the French word for strawberry, which just happens to sound an awful lot like the family name.

Fraser sounds like an occupational surname keeping company with Archer and Miller, but it isn’t so.  But there is a profession attached to this appellation – radio talk psychiatrist, as in Dr. Frasier Crane.

Frasier first appeared on sitcom staple Cheers during season three, as a suitor for Diane, a rival to her on-again, off-again love interest, bartender and bar owner Sam Malone.  He stayed long after Diane’s departure, eventually marrying a fellow psychiatrist, the frosty Lilith Sternin.  Cheers was set in Boston.  As the series wound down, Lilith and Frasier divorced, and the stage was set for Frasier to move home to Seattle and try a career change – he’s still a psychiatrist, but now more of a pop culture self help figure on Seattle radio station KACL.

Incidentally, the only possible explanation either series ever offers for his unusual first name is this: Frasier’s mom, also a psychiatrist, named him for one of her lab rats.

The television character certainly put Frasier on the books as a possible name for a child.  Other associations include Smokin’ Joe Frazier, a former Heavyweight World Champ.  The boxer’s heyday was the 1960s and 1970s.

Choose your field of endeavor and you can almost certainly find a Fraser.  One of my favorites is Honolulu-born artist Juliette May Fraser, whose work eventually graced the Hawaii State Library.

None of these associations – not even the sitcom – was enough to boost Fraser into greater use.  Frazier appeared in the US Top 1000 a few times from the nineteenth century into the very early 20th – the only spelling to do so.  Just like any surname, there’s some limited use over the years.

Today the Fraser fir, an evergreen native to the eastern US and popular as a Christmas tree, lends Fraser a nature vibe, and a seasonal one, too.  It is easy to imagine naming a December-born son Fraser.

In fact, it is just plain easy to imagine naming a son Fraser.  With his ends-in-r construction, his vibrant ay sound, and that surname style, he’s exactly on trend.  And yet he’s virtually unused, too – a promising combination!

Nico Buwalda; Image via Wikipedia

Today’s pick is a fascinating gender neutral name with a certain sparky, international vibe.

Thanks to Findley for suggesting Nico as our Baby Name of the Day.

Originally, Nico is a Dutch version of Nicholas.  Or maybe he’s related to Nicodemus, a separate name with the same meaning, or Dominic, a saintly appellation.  Regardless, Nico is a logical short form of any name containing the nic sound – as is Nick or Nicky – and he’s also heard in German, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, and other European languages.

Nicholas was a wildly popular fourth century saint whose name has seen steady use over the years.  Royals and popes have answered to the name.

There are bunches of early 20th century Nicos, guys like Nico Buwalda, the Dutch footballer pictured above, or Italian crooner Nico Fidenco.  Over the course of the twentieth century, we find more and more Nicos.

Some of it may simply be better recording of personal biographies.  That’s how we know, for example, that youngest Llewelyn-Davies brother Nicholas answered to Nico.  (Along with George, John, Peter, and Michael, the brothers and their family were friends of J.M. Barrie, and the inspiration for Peter Pan.)

Llewelyn-Davis is the first English Nico I find.  But then, despite Nicholas’ steady use, he wasn’t wildly popular in English until recent decades.  In 1900, Nicholas ranked #200.  Feminine form Nicole is even more of a new arrival.  She first appears in the US Top 1000 in 1942, and stayed at the fringes until the 1960s.

All of the Nick names were on top of the world in the 1980s.  In the midst of this, in 1988, Nico debuted as a boys’ name.  He reached #591 in 2010.

Nico in La Dolce Vita; Image via Wikipedia

Nico has never charted as a girls’ name, and was given to just 39 girls last year.  But she has had some use for girls, thanks to a German singer.  Born Christa Päffgen, the lingering rumor is that her stage name was borrowed from Greek director Nikos Papatakis, also nicknamed Nico.

In recent years, Nico has been catching on :

• Actress Thandie Newton has daughters called Ripley and Nico, and Nico is said to be named after singer.
• Coldplay’s Guy Berryman has a daughter called Nico, as does the lead singer of Blind Melon, the late Shannon Hoon.
• Short-lived television series Lipstick Jungle included a character named Nico, a high-powered magazine editor.
• Then there’s singer-songwriter Neko Case.  It appears to be her given name.

In Germany and Austria, Nico is big for boys, and it is also the name of a male character in the Percy Jackson series.