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.

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.

The evergreen Elizabeth has given rise to plenty of short forms.  Would this one stand on its own?

Thanks to BC for suggesting Bess as our Baby Name of the Day.

You will meet women named just Eliza and Beth, but chances are that if you meet a Bess, she’s really Elizabeth or Elisabeth.  Bess last charted in the US Top 1000 as an independent given name in 1927.  Bessie fared slightly better – she hung on until 1975.

But In 2012, short forms like Tess and Millie feel fresh, and decidedly separate from longer forms like Theresa or Mildred.  Mad Men has boosted Betty.  And with all these boys wearing names last fashionable in the Colonial era, even Betsy feels at home with Nate and Sam.  Does Bess fit in their company, too?

She has more history than most.  The daughter of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth’s childhood was tumultuous.  Dad had mom executed when Elizabeth was a few months shy of her third birthday.  Elizabeth was declared illegitimate.  But despite these trials, she still received an outstanding education, and survived the reigns of her half-brother Edward and half-sister Mary.

If Bess was a nickname used in her household, it isn’t recorded.  Instead, Good Queen Bess was a popular way to refer to the monarch, whose rule is often characterized as a golden age, capped by the English defeat of the Spanish Armada.

But it was also a nickname in use at the time:

• Bess of Hardwick, also christened Elizabeth, was a few years older than the queen.  The much-married noblewoman ended her days as Countess of Shrewsberry, but she’s best known for the stately homes she built with the fortune she amassed, as well as the extraordinary collection of textiles she helped create during her life.

Other women at court during the Elizabethan era shared the name.  It was very common to be named after a godparent, parent, or other close relation.  This narrowed the name pool – and surely must have increased the reliance on diminutive forms.

It’s tough to know for certain which Elizabeths answered to Bess, but here are a few:

• The future Duchess of Devonshire, Elizabeth Cavendish – known as Bess – was part of a scandalous love triangle with William and Georgiana - the Duke and his first wife.  Hayley Atwell played Bess in the 2008 movie about Georgiana, The Duchess.
• George Gershwin, his brother Ira, and husband-and-wife team DuBose and Dorothy Heyward get credit for the enduring Porgy & Bess.  The folk opera first debuted in 1935.  The Heywards had titled the original novel and play just Porgy.  But Bess, his love interest, has been part of the title for years.
• Another Elizabeth-called-Bess would marry Harry Truman, and so become the First Lady of the United States in 1945.
• One of Nancy Drew’s BFFs is Bess Marvin, usually described as soft-hearted and easily frightened – the opposite of Nancy and the other member of their trio, tomboy George.

This takes us to 2012, when Bess sounds like a throwback.  But a throwback to what era, precisely?  She was most popular as an independent name in the 1880s and 1890s, along with Emma and Clara, Alice and Grace - but also Ethel and Bertha, Minnie and Ruth.  Just because some made a comeback doesn’t mean that all of them will.

The safe path is, of course, to pen Elizabeth or Elisabeth on the birth certificate, and just call your girl Bess.  But with all this history behind her, Bess could stand on her own.

Little Lulu; Image via Wikipedia

A few weeks ago, Fetching Names looked at Coco, a spirited short form of … what, exactly?  You can visit that post to consider your options.

Today, we turn our attention to another of the names so nice you say them twice: Lulu.

First, if you’re inclined to add the alliterative “Little” before this name, that’s thanks to Marjorie Henderson Buell’s cartoon character from the 1930s and 40s, and periodically revived ever since. The adventurous Little Lulu Moppett could get herself into trouble, but she was generally a good egg, virtuous and prone to day-saving.

Inclined to call your kiddo Lulu Lemon?  That’s thanks in part to the Vancouver-based yoga and active wear company now rapidly expanding in the US.

There’s also Scottish singer Lulu – born Marie - best known for singing the theme songs to 1960s flicks.  “To Sir With Love” was her biggest hit, but if you’re a James Bond fan, you might also know “The Man With the Golden Gun.”

There are oodles of ways to get to Lulu.

Louisa, Louise, Luisa, Luise – The classics, and the obvious choices.  Louisa has all the literary elan of Miss Alcott, while Louise Brooks was the silent film star nicknamed Lulu.  Luisa and Luise are the Spanish, Italian, and German variants, and equally valid ways to arrive at the short form.

Tallulah – A Hollywood appellation from leading lady Tallulah Bankhead to starbabies Tallulah Belle Willis, daughter of Bruce Willis and Demi Moore, and Tallulah Fyfe, daughter of Patrick Dempsey.  Perhaps the most daring name on this list, Lulu is a means to tone down the extravagant Tallulah.  Lula would work equally well.

Lucinda – A lovely literary elaboration, she leads to the nickname Lucy or Lulu.

Lucienne – Another potential way to reach Lucy or Lulu, this time with a stylish French twist.  Also a great choice if you’re disappointed that Vivienne, Genevieve, and other French names for girls are gaining in popularity.

Lucille – Just as French as Lucienne, Lucille had fallen out of favor by the 1970s.  But since the turn of the 21st century, she’s been back.  Just as Lillian was revived by parents seeking a formal option for Lily, Lucille ranked #482 – and climbing – thanks to moms and dads interested in Lucy and Lulu.

Lucasta – If Lucille is back, Lucasta was never there.  Invented by a seventeenth century poet who loved a Lucy, the name comes from the phrase lux casta – pure light.  Then there’s Anna Lucasta, a little 1949 film rebooted a decade later with Eartha Kitt in the starring role.  She’s a rarity, but she could be a pleasing one.

Lucretia – There’s a Goth vibe to Lucretia, thanks to the Borgia and the Sisters of Mercy.  It’s an ancient name, and a heavy one.  Lulu almost feels too insubstantial to come from Lucretia.  First Lady Lucretia Garfield answered to Crete.  Still, it is an option – and an intriguing one.

Ludovica – Few names are as fascinating as Louis, an appellation directly related to Aloysius and Clovis and Ludovica, too.  The simplest explanation is that a Germanic name, worn by an early Frankish ruler and then many other European monarchs, was Latinized in various forms.  Ludovica is an Italian feminine version from the same soup.  She’s obscure in the Uhttp://appellationmountain.wordpress.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=12940&action=editS, but what’s not to love?  She fits in with Francesca and Victoria and Isabella, too – a strong, no-nonsense name that sacrifices none of her flowing, feminine qualities.

Eluned - She looks like she belongs on this list, but this obscure Welsh saint’s name isn’t a great fit.  Despite the “lu” visible in the middle, her pronunciation is probably el EE ned.  Still, she’s so obscure in the US that you could probably get away with it.

Luna - The Harry Potter heroine’s night-sky name doesn’t require a short form, but you could consider Lulu.  There’s also Lunette.

Laura, Lauren - Also a stretch, but maybe not an unthinkable one, especially since Lori is so solidly in mom-name territory circa 2012.

Lucia - A fast-gaining favorite, and rival to Lucille, Lucia has the makings of a name that could replace Olivia in the US Top Ten.  She ranked #265 in 2010 – not overwhelmingly popular – yet.  Elaborations like Luciana and Lucilla are possibilities, too.

Guadalupe - A wolfish appellation with ties to the Virgin Mary, she’s an awful lot of name to give to a 21st century American girl.  Lulu would make Guadalupe wearable.

Luvenia - Lulu feels like a first-wave hipster name.  Now that she’s surfacing in the ‘burbs, what’s a Park Slope parent to do?  Luvenia was invented in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, and feels more like Lorna or Dolores - still clunky enough to be considered cool by trendsetters.

Luella - Not willing to go quite as far as Luvenia or Ludovica?  Luella – the middle name of blogger Rebecca Woolf’s second-born, Fable – has just as much indie spirit, but is slightly more restrained.  Luella also appeared in the US Top 200 as late as 1910, and those extra Ls make Lulu feels like an obvious nickname.

Are there other names you would put on the birth certificate in hopes of getting to Lulu?

Image by John McNab via Flickr

Lest this post come to the attention of the good people at Gawker, let me begin by saying this: I do not think you should name your child Harpo.  Harper, yes.  Harlow, why not?

And yet today’s Baby Name of the Day has a fascinating history, touching on two 20th century cultural phenomenons.  Thanks to Jen for the suggestion.

The Marx Brothers grew up on New York’s Upper East Side, a struggling immigrant family in a neighborhood full of struggling immigrant families.  The five brothers were named Leonard, Adolph, Julius, Milton, and Herbert - better known as Chico, Harpo, Groucho, Gummo, and Zeppo.  Brother Adolph became Arthur possibly because of anti-German sentiment during the first world war era, or maybe because he just never liked his given name.  But we’ve always known him as Harpo.

Groucho Marx, he of the cigar and the quips and the waggling eyebrows, is the most famous of the siblings.  Harpo is not quite as well known – maybe because he didn’t talk.  Or should I say his character didn’t talk.  There are recordings of his voice, but keeping mum became part of his persona.

Early in his career he taught himself how to play and tune the harp.  He’d eventually learn that his technique was technically incorrect – but it had become a part of his style, as well as the name by which he was known.

Harpo’s shtick also included elaborate pantomime, responding by blowing a horn or a whistle, an outrageous curly hair wig, which darkened from bright pink to deep red over the years.

Harpo died in 1964, but the anniversary of his birth is tomorrow – November 23.

We might have forgotten Harpo, but then along came Oprah Winfrey, another famous figure.  I’ve written about the Orpah/Oprah switch, but there’s another piece to the media mogul’s name: Oprah backwards spells Harpo.

Harpo Productions is Oprah’s company, an empire which includes film, television, radio, and print divisions.  The logo appears in all of her efforts, so Harpo is everywhere.

But have there ever been men named Harpo, with those five letters inked on their birth certificates?  In The Color Purple - an Alice Walker novel famously adapted for the big screen – there is a character named Harpo, the stepson of Whoopi Goldberg’s character, and later the husband of Oprah Winfrey’s Sofia.  Was that a mistake?  Much to my surprise, when I searched US Census records, I found just a few – just enough, I suppose, to make Walker’s character’s name plausible.

Today none of that matters.  Harpo is Oprah’s studio, and even in our era of Harper and Leo, Harpo feels like a stretch.  In the middle spot he’d be quirky and unexpected, but I’m not sure this one would wear well as a given name – unless, of course, your big brother is Groucho.

Image via Wikipedia

Some names are forever linked to a diminutive form.  We expect Katherine to answer to Kate.  If you’re introduced to Joe, you’ll assume Joseph appears on his birth certificate.

Those aren’t the only options, of course.  Katherine could just as easily prefer the feline Kit, and Joe could be short for Giacomo or Joachim.  Or they could be just plain ol’ Joe and Kit.

But what about names that don’t feel quite substantial enough to write on the birth certificate, but aren’t clearly connected to any given name?

Here’s one that suffers from that challenge: what’s to be done about Coco?

Make no mistake, Coco appears on birth certificates.  Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore and Kim Gordon have a daughter called Coco Hayley.  Courtney Cox transformed her childhood nickname into her daughter’s given name, Coco Riley.  74 girls received the name in 2010.

If that’s not your style, there are options aplenty.  I scribbled these down from an AppMtn Facebook post a few weeks ago – a few ideas of what to put on the birth certificate if you’d like to call your little girl Coco.

This makes today’s installment of Fetching Names the very first crowd-sourced post.

Colette – The ever so stylish Mademoiselle Chanel started out life as Gabrielle.  Putting Colette on the birth certificate stays faithful to Coco’s français roots.

Constance, Consuelo – The two names aren’t actually related, but they have a lot in common.  Constance comes from a Late Latin name meaning steadfast.  William the Conqueror had a daughter called Constance, and the name has been in use in English ever since.  Consuelo is a different kind of virtue name, drawn from the Spanish word for consolation, a title of the Virgin Mary, Nuestra Señora del Consuelo.  Another powerful William – William Vanderbilt – gave the name to his daughter in 1877, in honor of her half-Cuban godmother.  Both carry a certain upper crust polish, a strong anchor for Coco.  Consuelo’s o-ending makes her especially fitting.

Coralie, Coraline – Some co- names, like Cora and Coral, feel complete without a short form.  But the French Coralie – from the Latin for coral – and the modern rediscovery Coraline open the door to the nickname Coco.

Cordelia – Here’s one of my favorites, Lear’s loyal daughter from Shakespeare’s enduring play.  She’s instantly recognized as a given name, but is rarely heard – she’s been missing from the US Top 1000 since 1950.  The name’s origins have been attributed to Welsh myth, and Cordelia may have been worn by a fourth-century saint and an early medieval queen.  Cory and Delia are logical nickname options, but Coco lends some spirit to this vintage choice.

Corisande – If you’re leaning towards literary rarities, Corisande goes even farther than Cordelia.  Like Cora, she probably traces back to the Greek word for maiden, or possibly corazon, Spanish for heart.  She’s first heard in a medieval romance, then traveled from Spain throughout Europe thanks to opera.  Benjamin Disraeli used Corisande for a character in one of his lesser known works.  The name starts to surface in the sixteenth century, but has all but disappeared by the twentieth century.

Cosima – Supermodel mama Claudia Schiffer and director Sofia Coppola both gave this name to daughters born in May of 2010.  Celebrity chef Nigella Lawson gave the name to her firstborn back in 1994.  Plenty of variants have seen use over the centuries, including Cosmo.  They all sound a bit spacey, but cosmos actually comes from the Greek word for order.

Gioconda - Looking for an Italian heritage choice rarer than Gianna?  The joyful Gioconda was is another name for Leonarod da Vinci’s masterwork Mona Lisa.  She would be tough to wear in American English, but nicknames abound, including Coco and her style cousin, Gigi.

Jacoba - Jacob is everywhere, and short form Jake is tremendously likeable.  But the feminine form has never really caught on, not even after actress Cobie Smulders made the name a small-screen staple.  Like the idea of honoring a Jake?  Jacoba, nn Coco, could be an interesting avenue.

Jericho – In most cases, Coco is a nickname that spices up a rather demure, lady-like appellation.  Not so with Jericho.  The name of one of the oldest inhabited cities in the history of man, Jericho appears in the Old Testament and the daily news alike.

Nicola – Names from Nicholas are plentiful, with Cole currently in the Top 100 and Colin just outside.  Nicola – or Nicole or Nicolina or Nicolette - all have the “co” sound required to inspire Coco as a short form.

Thanks to everyone for the great ideas!  Are there other ways to get to Coco that I’ve left out?

Image by theunquietlibrarian via Flickr

She’s a quirky Slavic elaboration based on an enduring name.

Thanks to Sarah for suggesting Madlenka as our Baby Name of the Day.

Madlenka sounds like an exotic twist on Madeline, but that’s not quite true.  Instead she traces back to Miriam.

Stumped?  I’ll admit I’m a bit confused by this one, too.  Miriam became Maria in Greek, Marie in French and Czech.

The list of diminutive forms of Marie and company is extensive, and subject to vagaries of language.  A sampling includes:

• Marika and Mariska
  
• Mariella and Mariel and Marisela
  
• Maureen and Marlene
  
• Mia and Maja
• Mies and Mairwen and Maiken

The endings -enka and -anka are typically used to form diminutives in Czech, so while I can’t explain the r-to-d switch, Marie-to-Madlenka tracks.

If you’re doubting that Madlenka has been used as a nickname in recent years, look no further than former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright.  She was born Marie Jana Korbelová in Prague, but known as Madlenka.  She became Madeleine while studying in Switzerland.

Several sources do attempt to connect Madlenka to Madeline and Mary Magdalene, but Magdalena is a separate name in Czech.

There’s another high profile Madlenka in recent years, and she’s pictured above. Illustrator and children’s book author Peter Sís created a series of stories about a little girl called Madlenka.  It’s the name of his darling daughter, but as the original 2000 book review in the New York Times notes, it is also links the story to the enduring classic Madeline.  Since Madlenka first joined the ranks of children’s literary heroes, she’s gone on the get a dog and play soccer in two additional titles.

There are other Madlenkas out there, but they all appear to be of Czech descent without exception.  The question is whether a name ending in -lenka would work for someone from another background -  not Czech, not even Slavic, maybe not even European.

While I sometimes hesitate on this controversial question, I think this is one that isn’t so strongly or obviously tied to her heritage that it is fair game.  It might be tough to be a Nigerian Ingrid or a Swedish Kwame - though I’m sure it happens.  I’m not even positive that -lenka is widely recognized as a diminutive ending outside of name nerd circles.  Plus, obvious nickname option Maddie immediately takes her into the mass of girls born in the last decade.

Of course, if the -ka ending gives you pause, there’s the Italian Maddalena or the Portuguese Madalena.

Like Mariska, Madlenka is different, unexpected – she’s the kind of name that makes you pause and check that you’ve got it just right.  But she’s also easy to spell and close to enough familiar names that she might be the-just-a-little-different option you’re seeking.

I would never have guessed this one for the reality television couple, but it fits – Jack, Liam, Stella, and Hattie.  She’s also on trend with names like Sadie, as well as the British tendency to elevate short forms to formal name status.

I’m a big fan of Harriet, and I think she’s catching on, along with other ends-in-et options like Juliet.  Hattie is also the name of one of the newborns profiled in 2010 documentary Babies.

Spelling and McDermott had been choosing names that followed trends.  This time I think the couple may be setting them.

The church from Tess of the D'urbervilles;Image by neilalderney123 via Flickr

She’s a nickname for a fading classic – and for some parents, she’s enough to fill up a birth certificate.

Thanks to Anna and Sophie for suggesting Tess as our Baby Name of the Day.

If Tess feels like she stands on her own, perhaps it is because of Thomas Hardy’s 1891 literary triumph Tess of the d’Urbervilles.  Hardy’s Tess is tragic, though she’s virtuous, even brave, when circumstances continually turn against her.  She’s mostly addressed as just plain Tess, but at one point, her suitor addresses her as “Mistress Teresa d’Urberville.”

Tess is usually short for Theresa, Teresa, or Therese, but she could also stand in for:

• Esther, Estelle, Estella;
• Contessa;
• Modern inventions like Tessalyn or Tessianne;
• Or, more commonly, Tessa.

Just like many parents find Sadie or Sally too much of a departure from her original source, Sarah – or would never name a daughter Mary but call her Molly – Tess’s connection to Theresa has weakened over the years.

In fact, Theresa – wore by saints and royals aplenty – is fading.  From the 1920s through the 1970s, she ranked in the US Top 100.  Tracy, Tracey, Tracie, and other traditional diminutives had a good run in the 1960s and 70s, but have also faded.  By 2010, Theresa barely remained in the rankings, coming in at just #940.

Meanwhile, Tessa has been picking up steam, first appearing in the Top 1000 in 1964 and coming in at #221 last year.  The spare Tess ranked #810, suggesting that parents don’t quite see her as solidly established as other diminutives, like Kate.

Plenty of fictional characters have answered to the name, including:

• Tess Trueheart, the love interest, and eventually wife, of comic strip detective Dick Tracy;
• Working Girl’s brainy Tess McGill, who got the job and the guy in the 1988 hit movie starring Melanie Griffith;
• The head angel on Touched by an Angel was called Tess;
• On Roswell, a prime time soap with an alien twist, Tess was one of the part-human hybrids;
• Shirley MacLaine wore the name in Guarding Tess, as fictional former First Lady Tess Carlisle;
• In the Ocean’s 11 and Ocean’s 12 movies, Julia Roberts plays Tess Ocean, the wife of mastermind Danny;
• The cast of Camp Rock included an aspiring singer called Tess.

The list is incomplete, especially if you factor in women named Theresa who answer to Tess.  There’s also Tessie, the theme song of the Boston Red Sox.  There are actually two Tessies – a 1902 song from a Broadway musical, and a 2004 single by the Dropkick Murphys.

It is tempting to link Tess to the Greek tesseres – four.  There’s also the Cornish Tressa – which literally means third.  You could use Tressa as a formal name for Tess, too.

If you’re disappointed that Jane and Kate are mainstream, you could turn towards Tess.  She’s short and perhaps a bit incomplete, but the literary Tess gives her just enough of an anchor.