A ROSE BY ANY OTHER NAME COULD BE A CROWN OF THORNS!
After several rounds of intrusive fertility treatment, a friend was recently rewarded by the birth of a beautiful baby girl, Fendi Millen, named after two of her favourite shopping brands. It could have been worse, of course, the poor kid might have ended up as Burberry Choo or Louboutin Rubenstein, or even IKEA Waitrose. But, it’s bad enough and poor Fendi M may be forever scarred by the fact that her mother put choosing the name of her long-awaited precious bundle on a par with designer goods.
Listen up, parents, whilst it might seem cute to land your sprogeny with a ‘designer name’, the reality can be misery for that child and deep psychological scarring. It can, and often does, colour their perception of themselves and of those around them. I know this, because in a past life I used to draw up Change of Name Deeds, which was interesting work because I never knew who was going to walk in the door, much less who was going to walk back out. And some were amusing, if not downright funny. One of my all time favourites was a flamboyant Italian, Annunziata, who turned up bemoaning her ‘bad luck’ caused, according to a fortune teller, by the fact that she was named after her dead grandmother. The advice was to change her name to something ‘straaang and victoohrious’. Thus, in the stroke of a few paragraphs, Annunziata became Victoria. She left, clutching her Change of Name Deed in a manner most regal, and with a lot less waving of her hands.
Enter Clive Mine. Exit Gold Mine – I kid you not. Since he could barely find the money to pay for his Change of Name Deed, I suspect his mine was probably of the disused variety. He did have a gold tooth, though, and a very nice smile.
Amusing as these examples are – the people above were adults and in a position to choose for themselves. Babies rely on their parents to make smart decisions on their behalf, and if they fall down on that responsibility the results can have long-term disturbing consequences. Several of my former clients spent years being bullied and taunted, the direct result (they believed) of having a ‘stupid’ or ‘ridiculous’ name that singled them out from their peers and made them the target of other people’s cruelty. And the new names they chose? Regular, everyday names; John. Emily. James. Elizabeth. Not one Orlando. Not one Honey-Blossom-Hawthorn-Clematis. And never, ever, a Fendi Millen!
Apart from being saddled with a stupid moniker, what all of these people had in common was a strongly held belief that their name was more than just a convenient means of identification. It held real power over them, a whole set of preconceived characteristics that put them at a disadvantage and prevented them from becoming the people they felt they were meant to be.
Think that’s rubbish? Well, try this little exercise. Think of a girl named Harriet. Think of a girl named Chantelle. Think of a boy named James. Think of a boy named Wayne. What image does each name conjure up? Are there any particular characteristics you associate with each name? A particular socio-economic group? Educational abilities?
Shakespeare’s Hamlet tell us, ‘nothing is either good or bad, but thinking makes it so’. Logically, therefore, no name is either good or bad, but thinking makes it so. Logical or not, as a society we are predisposed to pigeon-hole people, often solely on the strength of their name. I wonder if Tracey re-branded herself as Harriet, would she see herself differently. Would we see her differently?
Having witnessed the damage wrought, I believe parents should give far more consideration to naming their children. Think twice before labelling them in a whimsical fashion or aping some half-wit ‘celeb’. Rosebud Dipsy Doo doo might be cute at two. At twenty-two, it’s downright cruel! Agt forty, it doesn’t bear thinking about.
Remember Zowie Bowie? He changed his name, firstly, to Joe and then to Duncan. Point made.
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