Glenveagh Castle; Image via Wikipedia

Looking for a lighter form of the clunky Edgar?  Searching for a truly distinctive name that leads to the heard-everywhere Addie?

Thanks to Kristin for suggesting Adair as our Baby Name of the Day.

Edgar stretches back to the tenth century English king Edgar, picking up a literary sheen thanks to a fictional Edgar in a novel by Sir Walter Scott, and writers like Edgar Rice Burroughs and Edgar Allan Poe.  He occupied the US Top 100 into the 1920s; at #216 today he’s not rare, but he’s also not exactly stylish.

Adair first appears as a surname.  The old Anglo-Saxon version of Edgar was Eadgar; drop the g sound and Adair and Adare follow.  It’s equally common on the map, in both spellings.

In the nineteenth century, Captain John Adair made a mint in the US, then returned home to Ireland intent of building a palatial country home to rival the royal estate Balmoral.  Adair’s Glenveagh Castle nearly succeeded.  Adair’s widow, the American-born Cornelia, opened their home to wounded soldiers during World War I.

Other notables to wear the surname include athletes and scientists, as well as:

• If you’ve seen the Cary Grant classic Arsenic and Old Lace, then you’ve seen legendary vaudeville actress Jean Adair – she originated the role of the cheerfully murderous Aunt Martha on Broadway, too;
• Poet Virginia Hamilton Adair;
• Nineteenth century Cherokee Nation leader William Penn Adair – cowboy comedian Will Rogers was named in his honor;
• For over a century, there was an Adair Baronetcy, created in 1838, and extinct as of 1988.

Adair has never appeared in the US Top 1000, but that could change for two reasons.

First up: the short-lived Showtime series Dead Like Me.  The main character was Georgia, called George, an eighteen year old slacker with a dead end job who meets a bizarre accidental death, only to find that she’s been assigned to another dead end job – literally.  She’s part of the local crew of grim reapers, responsible for helping souls cross over into the afterlife.  Daisy Adair is one of George’s fellow reapers, a former actress who claims to have died on the set of Gone With the Wind.  The show ran for just two seasons, plus a direct-to-DVD movie.

It’s an obscure reference, but in the current US rankings, we find:

• The fast-rising surname Addison, #11 in 2010;
• Adalyn, #256, with the more traditional Adeline at #322;
• The regal Adelaide at #434;
• Compact Ada at #552;
• The spare Adele at #908.

Oodles of variant spellings dot the rankings.  Beyond the Top 1000, there are even more options leading to Addie, like:

• Adalia
• Adalina
• Adamaris
• Adelie

All of those are far more popular than Adair, only given to 22 girls in 2010.  67 boys received the name, suggesting that Adair remains  possible for boys as well.

For the moment, Adair occupies that rare space – a gender neutral, undiscovered gem.  The “dare” sound lends the name an adventurous spirit, while the history provides an anchor.  It’s a fun refresh on Edgar, or even possibly a creative feminine form.

I had a girl’s name picked out years before I even got pregnant.Adelaide Helena. It’s so completely regal and seems like she could be a character in Canterbury Tales or a busty role-playing woman at the yearly Renaissance Festival. I was dead set and often found myself doodling the name Adelaide on pieces of paper absentmindedly. The boy name that I had picked out was Oscar Seamus, but that became irrelevant.

I found myself pregnant about three years before I was planning on trying to conceive a first child, and for the first few weeks, I thought of the baby as Adelaide. I tried it out with her last name, Adelaide Brown. It sounded good enough, but suddenly I couldn’t get past the ‘laide’ at the end of the sentence (it means ‘ugly’ in French.) Then I thought my boyfriend wouldn’t like it. Then I thought it sounded too weird. Then I didn’t think it sounded like my baby. Then I just plain didn’t like it at all.

So I went months without a baby name picked out. If you combined all of the hours that I spent on baby name websites reading and re-reading the top 1000 lists (I wouldn’t pick anything in the top 100 names for 2009), editing my favorites, asking questions on message boards, tossing and turning in bed trying out different combinations, trying to convince myself that Violet Brown didn’t sound too bad.. it would probably equal out to an entire week without sleeping.

My criteria were difficult to work with. Her last name, Brown, limited my first names to nothing with one syllable, nothing that is a noun, nothing that is a color, nothing that could be an adjective, nothing starting with B. As her middle name, I was dead set on Alanna to honor her late paternal grandfather, Alan, because I thought it would be extremely important to my boyfriend even though my grandmother, Glenda, had just passed away when I was about 20 weeks pregnant. I changed Alana to Alanna because the word ‘anal’ just stares at me whenever I look at the name. Alanna as a middle name also limited first names to nothing ending in ‘A.’ Between the no color/nature names, and nothing ending in ‘A,’ 3/4ths of my favorites list had been nixed before even consulting with my boyfriend.

Ultimately, I had narrowed down my list for first names when I was about, oh I don’t know, 9 months pregnant:

• Ivy Alanna (I loved this so much!)
• Noelle Alanna (Too much ‘L’)
• Coralie Alanna (Boyfriend pronounced this as Cor-AL-lee.. nixed)
• Juliette Alanna
• Lorelei Alanna (also too much ‘L’)

Around the time that I was 36 weeks, my boyfriend suggested a name. “How about Lily?” I was horrified! I have always LOATHED and been disgusted with my first name because it is overly-cutesy, trendy, and over-popular.

Alas, the only two cents that baby daddy had to put in was suggesting a name in the exact popularity slot as my first name. Ugh. Besides that, Lily Alanna was just way too much ‘L’. I seem to have that problem a lot.

While half-way fuming about the only name he suggested and half-way trying to find a way to make it work somehow in her name, I googled lilies to see what they looked like. The first picture that popped up was a beautiful bright orange lily, my late-grandmother’s favorite color and coincidentally the same flower that I had picked off of her casket at her funeral before we buried her. It made me cry.

As I thought about it, all of the perks to the name Lily kept flowing. My 9-year old sister had suggested lily, my boyfriend had suggested lily, Lily is also a Harry Potter name, it’s a nature name, and it would balance out whatever crazy first name I eventually would pick, assuming my boyfriend would let me.

Lily became her middle name and a whole new universe of first names opened up to me! Mostly just names ending in a: Tabitha, Cora, Nora, Matilda, Alaia, Isla, Cambria, Leyna, Nona, Clara, it was mind-boggling. It was also mind boggling to my boyfriend why I couldn’t just picked a ‘regular’ name, as in something in the top 10 most popular.

I have never been a fan of the name Sasha on a girl, but for some reason it jumped out to me and for some reason I knew my boyfriend with his limited taste in names would approve it.

I never talked to him about the name and suddenly at 37 weeks my water broke and the baby was born that night. We sat in the hospital for 2 days without a name because I was too afraid of having Sasha rejected. I worked up the guts and surprisingly, we both agreed on it. Sasha Lily. It isn’t the kind of name that I would like at all. I wouldn’t have picked this. My boyfriend wouldn’t have picked this. I’m convinced that my baby named herself from the womb, because her name fits her to a ‘t!’

Afterwards, I did have name regret. I saw the looks on people’s faces when I announced her name and couldn’t stand the questions like, “So what made you decide on Sasha..?” I went back over my lists thinking about what I should have chosen. Something more common like Audrey, maybe Caroline. Something that actually fits my taste in names. I felt it necessary to add that I don’t really like her name when talking to people about names. I was embarrassed.

I’m finally warming up to it now though. Actually, I  love it now. The look on Sasha’s face when she answers to her name makes everything make sense. She picked her own name.

Thank you for sharing, Courtney!  You’ve done a great job of illustrating the differences between the names that we love, and the names that we actually use.  It can be surprising what a gap exists between the two!  And Sasha Lily is a great name – feminine and sparky, unexpected but not in an outlandish way.  And what a cutie!

139/365 To thine own self B true by Myki Roventine via Flickr

She’s gone full circle, from buxom pin-up girl to grey-haired granny, and back again to the nursery.

Thanks to Claire for suggesting Betty as our Baby Name of the Day.

From 1928 through 1934, Betty ranked #2 in the US, right behind Mary.  I’d guess that Betty was also the most common short form of Elizabeth, a Top 20 staple in the era.

Elizabeth is among the most evergreen of girls’ names, enjoying centuries of use.  The Biblical original was closer to Elisheva, from the Hebrew phrase “My God is an oath.”  She’s the mother of John the Baptist, and a saint in her own right, too.

The spelling Elizabeth first surfaces in England in the 1200s, and really picked up steam when Queen Elizabeth I took the throne in the sixteenth century.  The name has rarely been out of favor since, and all of those Elizabeths necessitated a long list of short forms: Tibby, Bess, Elsie, Eliza, Liza, Lizzie, Libby, Betsy, and Beth are just a few.

Famous real life Bettys include:

• Hollywood legend Bette Davis won two Best Actress Oscar and racked up scores of nominations;
• Born Elizabeth, actress Betty Grable was the iconic pin-up girl in World War II, her photo so iconic that LIFE magazine included it in their list of 100 Photos That Changed the World;
• Lauren Bacall born was born Betty, and it is said that she much preferred her given name;
• Former First Lady Betty Ford is best known today for lending her name to a treatment center for drug and alcohol addiction, the Betty Ford Center;
• Comedienne Betty White is the last of the Golden Girls, a talented actress who scored her first Emmy in 1951, and her most recent one last year.

The list of fictional Bettys is just as extensive:

• Animated pin-up girl Betty Boop actually predates Grable by a few years -  Boop debuted in 1930.  She was modeled after Clara Bow.  Today’s parents might not recognize Betty Grable, but the animated bombshell has become an enduring figure;
• Fictional homemaker extraordinaire Betty Crocker was created by a woman named Marjorie Childs, and was portrayed by an actress named Adelaide.  She’s been promoting a host of General Mills products since the 1920s;
• The girl next door in the Archie comics was blonde Betty Cooper;
• Fred and Wilma Flinstone’s neighbors and BFFs were the Rubbles, Barney and Betty, from the 1960s debut of The Flinstones;
• The small screen also gives us Mad Men’s desperately discontented housewife Betty Draper;
• We can’t forget ugly duckling-turned-fashion-mag staffer Betty Suarez of Ugly Betty.

Like many a mega-popular choice, Betty fell fast in the 1950s and 60s, leaving the US Top 1000 entirely after 1996.  In 1989′s Heathers the stereotypical good girl was called Betty Finn.

Today she sounds appealingly vintage but Betty has an indie edge, thanks to:

• Betty, who recorded the theme song for The L Word, among other things;
• The companion to Avril Lavinge’s “Sk8tr Boi,” was once called a skate betty.

Add it up, and Betty emerges as a little bit rebellious, a whole lot retro.  The ever-so-stylish Design Mom has a Betty, and many other parents may soon follow suit.  The question isn’t whether girls will answer to Betty – with Elizabeth ranked #11 in 2009, surely many do – but whether she’ll return to the US Top 1000 any time soon.

A by Too Far North via Flickr

She’s hidden in the history books, but if you look closely, you’ll find this intriguing medieval moniker hiding between the lines.

Thanks to Emily of In the Name for suggesting Aleydis as our Baby Name of the Day.

Aleydis is a form of Adalheidis, from the Germanic elements – adal – noble – and heid – type.  Adelaide was worn by an empress/saint in the 900s.  Thanks to another regal Adelaide from the nineteenth century, it is the most common form today – and quite stylish, too.

A long list of appellations trace their origins to Adalheidis, including:

• Alice
• Alix, easily mistaken for a feminine twist on Alexander but a valid feminine choice in its own right
• Adele
• Adela
• Alicia
• Alina
• Allison

Aleydis belongs on this list, but she’s just barely visible in the historical record and nearly gone from use today.  I’m guessing she’d be pronounced ah LAY dess, or ah lay DESS, but I’m not really sure.

Her evolution went something like this: Adalheidis was Adelheid in German and Dutch.  Aleida would’ve been the diminutive, and Aleidis or Aleydis a Latinised version of the short form.  The name was transformed by those who wrote about the saint, along the lines of Confucius (Kong Qiu until the 1600s, when Jesuits missionaries translated his writings) or Dutch painter Hieronymus Bosch, born Jeroen – Jerome.

In the first half of the thirteenth century,  a Brussels-born girl entered a convent.  She eventually founded a religious order aimed at instructing poor children.  She contracted leprosy and spent the rest of her life in isolation, slowing becoming blind and paralyzed.  Today she’s know as Saint Alice, patron saint of the blind and paralyzed, but in her lifetime she was called Aleydis.

Other women have worn the name, too:

• There’s a fleeting mention of a Prussian woman named Aleydis from the 1100s;
• Val-Duchesse is a castle owned by the Belgian Royal Trust.  Once the home of Henry III, Duke of Brabant, his widow, Aleydis or Alice, turned it into a priory in the 1200s.  The place owes its name to her – the Valley of the Duchess.  It’s now the site of international conferences;
• A thirteenth century religious movement included a leader called Aleydis, but the only information I can find is that she was executed for heresy in northern France in the 1200s;
• In the 1600s, Dutch painter Vermeer gave the name to one of his daughters;
• As late as the eighteenth century, there’s a prioress of a Cistercian Abbey in Germany answering to Maria Aleydis.

An old thread at Behind the Name suggested a completely separate evolution.  It strikes me as little more than a guess, attempting to connect Aleydis to the goddess Alea, later an epithet of Athena.  The thread also mentions Aleydis was popular in Catalonia, an area known for some truly extraordinary names.  I found one medieval reference to Adalyde in Catalonia, but nothing suggests that it is a separate name.

Parents might hear Aleydis in 2003′s film adaptation of Girl With a Pearl Earring, based on Tracy Chevalier’s carefully researched – but fictional – tale of the inspiration behind one of Vermeer’s most famous works.

Overall, Aleydis strikes a nice balance between names of recent coinage and gentle antiques.  She’s lively but historic, obscure but legit.

Edgar Allen Poe - The Raven; Image by oddsock via Flickr

He’s always lagged a few dozen paces behind the evergreen Edward, but the famous bearers of this name make for an impressive group.

Thanks to Emily H. for suggesting Edgar as our Baby Name of the Day.

Edgar’s ed shares the same root as all the Old English ed names – ead, rich or prosperous.  His -gar is the same as Roger and Garrett – spear.

In the tenth century, many English rulers wore ed- names.  King Edgar the Peaceful reigned from 959 to 975.  His dad was Edwin; his older brother, Eadwig; his son and successor, Edward.

Like Harold and Herbert and Leonard, many of the Old English names fell out of use in Norman England.  Some, like Swithun and Ligulf, are now all but extinct.  Others have fared better.

Edgar held on for a few reasons.  First, there was the English king, also sometimes considered a saint, plus a second short-reigning English monarch and a Scottish ruler, too.

A trio of literary uses made Edgar appealing to a more modern audience:

• He’s the legitimate son in Shakespeare’s King Lear, who nearly loses his inheritance through the machinations of his bastard brother;
• Sir Walter Scott’s 1819 novel The Bride of Lammermoor tells of Scotland’s answer to Romeo and Juliet.  Scott’s duo of star-crossed lovers are called Lucy and Edgar.  In Donizetti’s operatic adaptation, they’re Lucia and Edgardo;
• In Wuthering Heights, Catherine marries not Heathcliff, but Edgar Linton.

With all of those literary uses, no wonder the name has been worn by a long list of creative men, including:

• Edgar Degas, the painter who did so much for the ballet;
• Writer Edgar Allan Poe lends the name a Gothic vibe.  Trivia fact: Poe’s parents were actors, and they’d appeared in a production of King Lear around the time he was born, suggesting that their son’s name might’ve been borrowed from the play;
• Edgar Rice Burroughs created the character Tarzan, and also wrote sci fi set on Venus and Mars;
• You might not recognize Edgar Winter‘s name, but odds are you’d know the distinctive sounds of his hits, like 1973′s instrumental Frankenstein.

Edgar also steps as the butler’s name in more than one place, probably thanks to Disney’s The Aristocats.  The 1970 animated adventure told of a well-born mama cat, Duchess, and her trio of adorable, talented kittens – Berlioz, Toulouse,  and Marie, the pampered pets of Madame Adelaide Bonfamille.  Edgar is her butler – and when he finds out the felines stand to inherit the Bonfamille fortune, he kidnaps them.  All ends well, but Edgar doesn’t gain much by the association.

Still, Edgar remains in steady use.  Along with choices like Hector and Oscar, he succeeds in both English and Spanish, making him a staple for Latino families.  (He ranked #99 in Texas in 2009; Jose charted at #1.)

For the US overall, Edgar ranked #200.  He remains a name divided – there’s something fusty and even forbidding about Edgar, but buried underneath all that baggage is a romantic hero.

Now that Edward reads more heartthrob than grandpa, Edgar, too, might find favor with a new generation of parents.  If John Cusack’s portrayal of Poe in the upcoming movie The Raven is a hit, he could catch on.

Image via Wikipedia

She’s a regal antique boosted by her mega-popular nickname.

Thanks to Annabel for suggesting Adelaide as Baby Name of the Day.

With apologies to the fabulous Ms. Klum as well as Johanna Spyri’s enduring character, it is hard to imagine parents naming a daughter Heidi today.  It’s not that she wouldn’t wear well; it’s just that after peaking in the 1970s, she feels caught in fashion limbo.

But Heidi comes from the Germanic Adalheidis.  This makes her cousin to the stylish Alice and Ada.  Adalheidis is also the forerunner to Adelaide, and the 21st century might be her moment.

Her roots run deep:

• Tenth century Holy Roman Emperor Otto the Great married Adelaide, later a saint;
• Adele of Normandy married William III, Duke of Aquitaine.  Their daughter Adelaide became Queen of France in 987;
• Medieval Europe gives us women in religious life and scads of noblewomen throughout Europe answering to Adelheid, Adalheid, Adelasia, Azalaïs, and other variants that can found right up through our era.

Here’s the game-changer: in the nineteenth century, King William IV of the United Kingdom married a German princess called Adelaide, and the name caught on amongst English speakers at last.

It wasn’t just that she was queen.  Adelaide of Saxe-Meiningen was admired for her steady, religious, domestic approach to life.  The monarchy was in a bit of a muddle.  Mad King George III was on the throne, and there was a shortage of heirs.  A number of the king’s sons married in haste, including Prince William.  The couple had no surviving children, but reports suggest that they were happy together, with Adelaide tempering William’s wild ways.  Neither of the couple’s two daughters survived infancy, and so Queen Victoria succeeded her uncle.

The name was already in steady rotation amongst European royals, but now it surfaced among the titled English, too, like Princess Mary Adelaide of Cambridge, mother of the future Queen Mary.

The good queen also inspired the name of the capital of South Australia, founded in 1836.  I’ve never been there, but from what I understand, Adelaide is more like Savannah than Brooklyn – you can imagine parents being inspired to use the place name.

Adelaide was already falling when the US rankings were first reported.  She appeared in the top 200 in 1880s, but disappeared after 1948.  I’d call her an undiscovered gem, except that she’s been rediscovered in recent years.

In 2005, Adelaide reappeared at #901.  By 2009, she’d climbed to #567.

At least some of Adelaide’s appeal is the nickname Addie, shared by other Top 1000 choices:

• Addison (#12) and variants Addyson, Addisyn, and Adyson;
• Adeline (#351) as well as Adalyn, Adelyn, and Adelynn.

As a formal name, Adelaide feels richer and more sophisticated than most of these choices.  But as a nickname, she blends in with all of the girls answering to Addie and Maddie.  It makes for the name’s only flaw.  If you’re the type to go nickname-free, Adelaide makes for a stunning choice, along the lines of Cordelia or Imogen.

Addie might not be a deal-breaker, either.  You’re far more likely to meet an Addison than an Adelaide, and so if you don’t mind sharing the short form, your formal version remains relatively uncommon.

Augusta, Princess of Wales; Image via Wikipedia

Is this regal appellation due for a revival?

Thanks to Annabel for suggesting Augusta as Baby Name of the Day.

Augusta started out as an honorific, the feminine equivalent of the Roman Augustus.  Octavian, grand-nephew to Julius Caesar, was the first to receive the title; but it wasn’t quite like king or emperor.  Augustus merely cemented his position as the top dog of his day.

The titles trickled into use as a given name among the nobility.  In the 400s, a well-born Italian woman converted to Christianity.  Legend has it that her father flew into a rage and killed her.  She’s remembered as St. Augusta of Treviso.

More modern times:

• Eighteenth century Princess Augusta of Saxe-Gotha-Altenburg became Princess of Wales.  Her husband, Frederick, died before taking the throne and their son became George III;
• The same couple also passed the name on to their daughter, Princess Augusta Frederica.  Her daughter, Caroline, would marry the future George IV;
• George III passed the name on to daughter Princess Augusta Sophia;
• George III also had a son called Prince Adolphus, Duke of Cambridge.  He married Augusta of Hesse-Kassel.  They named their second daughter Augusta.  Their third daughter, Mary Adelaide, was the grandmother to Mary of Teck, wife of George V.

If that’s not enough Augustas – and Georges – the first and last German Empresses wore the name, too.

Most American parents probably think not of castles and tiaras, but of golf courses.  Augusta, Georgia is home to prestigious golf tournament The Masters.  The city is named for the first princess on the list.  (She’s also in the portrait above.)

You can find Augusta in many other places, too.  The most intriguing might be Zaragoza – evolved from a settlement called Caesaraugusta, established by the emperor who first bore the title.

Parents have yet to rediscover Augusta.  Despite hovering just outside of the US Top 100 in the 1880s, Augusta has not ranked in the Top 1000 since 1944.  But August – a solid Top 100 pick for nineteenth century boys – is experiencing a revival, climbing from #608 in 2007 to #433 in 2009.  Could his sister be so far behind?

Or could his sister be, well, August?  Garth Brooks named his second daughter August Anna.  And 2002 novel turned 2008 movie The Secret Life of Bees featured sisters called May, June, and August.

Then again, not long ago, Eleanor and Beatrice were considered hopelessly stodgy, so let’s not count Augusta out.  Nickname Aggie would fit right in, and it is just a short trip from Savannah to this equally charming Southern city.  If you’re looking for an overlooked name with history aplenty, Augusta is one to consider.

Thanks to Melissa for suggesting Adele as Baby Name of the Day.

The average elementary school is home to a flock of girls called Maddie.  Madison and Madeline both ranked in the US Top 100 for the 2000s. Madelyn was just a few paces behind, and variant spellings abound.  In a sign that we’re really not all that good at finding unusual baby names, American parents decided to be just a little bit different.  Check out your average nursery school and Maddie has been eclipsed by Addie.

In 2009, Addison charted at #12, with Addyson (#226), Adeline (#351), Adalyn (#369), Adelyn (#405), Addisyn (#432), Adelaide (#567), Adalynn (#672), Adyson (#690) and Adelynn (#843) also ranking.

You’ll notice that Adele is missing from that list, and indeed, she stands out as a spare but stylish alternative.  Adele is sister to Frances or a substitute for Alice, quite distinct from many of the Addie-generating options.  And that’s the trick, of course – if you want your Adele to stand out from the crowd, you’ll have to treat her as a nickname-free appellation.

Adele does have the feeling of an antique due for restoration.  Her most popular years were 1914 and 1915, when she reached #188 in the US.  A number of Hollywood starlets wore the name.  She left the charts entirely after 1969, and thus far has been exempt from the rebirth of all Ad- names.

Adèle is also the French form of the name, and her roots stretch back to the 600s.  Saint Adela was a widowed princess who founded a convent outside of modern-day Trier.  Like all of the related names, she’s derived from the Germanic element adal - noble.

History also gives us:

• William the Conqueror had a daughter called Adeliza, who died young, and a second daughter named Adela, born shortly after her sister’s untimely death;
• Adela’s granddaughter, Adele of Champagne, sometimes called Alix, was the third wife of Louis VII of France, and their son became King Philip II;
• Fred Astaire’s big sister – and fellow dancer – Adele married an English lord and left behind the limelight.

More recently, singer Adele Adkins – better known by her first name only – scored the Grammy award for best new artist of 2009.

If you majored in math, you might recognize the adele ring.  I won’t pretend to have a clue what, precisely, that means, but I was intrigued to learn it is short for additive idele.  English lit majors might recognize Adele as the name of Jane Eyre’s charge.  Adelle and Adella are sometimes seen, too.

Of course, just like Alice and Frances and plenty of spare, 1920s-era appellations now making a comeback, Adele might not be dormant for long.  After years of Olivia and Isabella, there’s something quite attractive about the slim Adele.

As for Molly’s second daughter, little sister to Mathilda Ereni and twin to Roman Stylianos, I couldn’t find an interview where mom revealed her inspiration.  But she did live in France for many years, and in this Mother Jones interview, Molly mentions being a fan of the aforementioned singer.

I also spotted a Lilly Pulitzer tee called Adele.

Between her potential to share the mega-hit diminutive of the moment and her sleek retro style, Adele might well be back in the mainstream faster than you can say Pretty in Pink.

It’s a name I’ve heard once or twice of late, and I’ve been wondering about Adelie.  My favorite Adel- name is Adelaide, but it’s a huge category, from surname Addison to sweet Adeline to the inevitable Adalyn.  Just Ada or Addie are options, too, and Adalie certainly owes something to the popularity of the unrelated, but similar-sounding, Natalie.

Back to Adelie.  The parents of Adelie describe the name as “classic and sophisticated.”  Swistle perceives Adelie as “a modern invented name.”  Both Nameberry and Meilleurs Prenoms associate Adelie with Adele, though Behind the Name doesn’t list Adelie at all.

And so I ask, Adelie: Yea or Nay?

And one reason that’s trivial for him, dead serious for me: we could never agree on a name.

We do have a few candidates, scraps from the cutting room floor.  I’ve mentioned them in comments from time to time, but I thought a round-up was in order.  

Our girls’ list is first; I’ll post the boys’ list later.

1.  The frontrunner: Rosemary, nicknamed Romy

My grandmother was born Maria Rosa and known as Rose Marie.  I adored my grandmother and miss her constantly.  Rosemary/Romy works with the kids’ names, too – Alexander, Claire Caroline and Rosemary.  Alexei, Clio and Romy.  Aly, Clio and Romy.  Alex, Clio and Romy.

The only trouble?  We’d have named two daughters after my female relatives, while Arthur’s side of the family is out in the cold.

2.  Grace Genevieve, nicknamed Gigi

This was our long-time second name for a daughter.  It mirrors the pattern of Clio’s formal name and honors Arthur’s mother, Grazyna.  (It’s a Polish name that sounds something like this – grah JZIN ah.  My mother still can’t say it.  I’m not sure that I can, either.)

Trouble is?  I don’t much care for Grace.  Neither does my mother-in-law.  When she first came to the US she actively resisted others’ attempts to Anglicize her name as Grace.  I love Gigi, and instantly think of the musical with Maurice Chevalier singing “Thank Heaven for Little Girls.”  But I can see it is the kind of diminutive that you’d want to shed before, say, clerking for a circuit court judge.

I’ve also toyed with Hanae or Hannelore on the theory that they mean grace, but that’s a stretch.

3.  Helena, nicknamed Laney

This is another name plucked from Arthur’s family tree, but this time far enough back that we weren’t even aware of it until Arthur’s mother mentioned the name.  It works nearly just as well as Romy with the other kids’ names – Aly, Clio and Laney.  Alex, Clio and Laney.  Alexander, Claire Caroline and Helena.

4.  Penelope, nicknamed Polly

It’s a name I’ve long loved, and a way to connect to another family name – Paulina, Arthur’s cousin and Aly’s godmother.  But somehow Clio and Polly don’t sound like sisters to me.  There are also two little Pollys in our ‘hood already.

5.  Georgia, Olwen

George is a family name on my dad’s side, as is Olwen.  I’d probably reserve Olwen for the middle spot, and I don’t think Georgia pairs well with Clio.

6.  Margaret, nicknamed Daisy or Marguerite, nicknamed Daisy

Arthur’s aunt is Małgorzata, the Polish form of Margaret.  I like Marguerite much better than Margaret, partially because I had a Great Aunt Griet.  (I assume she, too, was baptized Margaret.)  So yes, I’m using a Polish formal name and a Dutch nickname (that I can’t explain, because no one in my family is Dutch, at all, though there was a pair of wooden shoes in my grandmother’s house) to arrive at a French name.  Which we’d put aside in favor of a botanical nickname anyhow.

8.  Diana, nicknamed Daisy or Anya

My eye-poppingly strange maiden name was Niadna, which can be anagramed to spell Dianna.  Arthur wouldn’t go for a variant spelling, but he likes Diana.  Neither nickname follows naturally, but I think both work well.  Anya also reminds me of my great-grandmother Anna.

9.  Cordelia, nicknamed Delia, Adelaide or Avalon

My nickname for Arthur is Del, and so I’ve long looked for feminine names that incorporate the element.  Adelaide was an early front-runner, but could we really have an Abby and an Addie in the same house?  Plus I’m convinced that Addie is going to supernova by 2012.

Cordelia is another option, one I like quite a bit, especially with the nickname Delia.  Alexander, Claire Caroline and Cordelia.  Aly, Clio and Delia.  Alex, Clio and Delia -  hmmm … it does raise the question of whatever happened to Baby B.

In Arthurian legend, Avalon is paradise.  It’s a subtle connection to Dad’s given name, but one that I quite like, especially in the middle spot.

10.  Isabeau

I’ve long loved this medieval variant of Elizabeth.  My little sister answers to the nickname Bo, so Isabeau seems like a fitting choice.

Once upon a time, I toyed with incorporating Boadicea, the first century warrior queen of the Iceni, in a child’s name for the same reasons.  But the more accurate spelling is probably Boudica, and there’s debate about whether the pronunciation begins with a boo rather than a bo.

11.  Iris

For my grandmother Irene, though it doesn’t sound great with our last name.  Too bad, because Clio and Iris sound like sisters, and I think she works with Aly and Clio nearly as well as Romy.

12.  Ellery

For my stepgrandfather, Irene’s husband, a thoroughly good egg.  I’ve considered it in the middle spot for a daughter or a son.

13.  Noor/Nora/Elinor and Lucy/Lucia/Luca/Lucienne

Claire means light, so names that share a similar meaning have always appealed.

14.  Veronica or Frederica

Do all name aficionados worry about naming twins, up until the ultrasound confirms that there’s only one baby on the way?

Had Alexander had a twin sister, two possible names were Veronica or Frederica, both to honor my dad, Eric, without poaching the name from my brother, Eric Jr.  Erica was also a contender, but seemed a little too close – even though my brother answers to Rohn.

15.  Sofia/Zofia/Sophie

My mother-in-law’s first middle name is Zofia.  In Polish, it gets a two-syllable pronunciation – ZAWF yeh – but I’ve heard Polish-Americans say it more like Sophia with a Z.  Zofia nicknamed Zoe was a contender for a while.

16.  Josephine, Catharine

Both choices from my mother’s family tree – Joseph was her grandfather, Catharine her aunt.  I don’t remember Joseph, but Great Aunt Catharine was one of my favorites.  Because her Manhattan apartment overlooked the Hudson, her grandson nicknamed her Grandma Boat.  Years later, Aly misunderstood Aunt Bo as Aunt Boat, so there’s a story there.

I’m fairly certain Catharine’s spelling is a nod to the Italian Catarina.  In any case, it is my favorite spelling and the only one I would consider.

Both names offer nicknames aplenty, but none of them sing to me.  That’s probably why they’re down here at #16.

17.  Anna/Anya, Anneliese nicknamed Anya

For the great-grandmother mentioned in #8.  But any of the Anna choices would make Clio the only family member without an A- name.  Too bad, because Anneliese Olwen would honor three of my dad’s relatives in one swoop.

18.  Linden and Sarai

For my aunts, Linda and Sarita.  (Sarita was named after her maternal grandmother, my great-grandmother Sara.)  I love both names, but again, there’s something awkward about skipping my husband’s family entirely.

Rosemary Linden Beau was long a favorite combination.  But I’m not wild about Beau on a girl, and two nature names is far too botanical for a family that ventures no closer to camping than shopping REI.

19.  Amalia, Kester

Amalia is from my husband’s family.  It’s a great name, but again, we can’t settle on a nickname and she’d be the fourth A, leaving Clio out in the cold.

Kester is also – in a very roundabout fashion – from my husband.  His mother’s maiden name translates to Christopherson.  My husband’s middle name is Christopher.  I don’t care for any of the feminine variants, though Christabeau is one that I’ve considered.  Kester is a medieval diminutive for Christopher, and reminiscent of my beloved Hester.  Of course, Kester also brings to mind Jester.  So never in the first spot.  But maybe in the middle.

20.  Hermione nicknamed Minna, Octavia nicknamed Tavy, Harriet nicknamed Hattie

Three names we just plain like.

1300 words later, you’re probably thinking what I’m thinking: yes, we could name a daughter, possibly three. 

But there’s an equal chance we’d have a boy, that’s where we are truly at sea.