How popular is the baby name Lindsay in the United States right now? How popular was it historically? Find out using the graph below! Plus, see baby names similar to Lindsay and check out all the blog posts that mention the name Lindsay.
The graph will take a few seconds to load, thanks for your patience. (Don't worry, it shouldn't take nine months.) If it's taking too long, try reloading the page.
“Everly” is hot…”Beverly” is not. It’s a one-letter difference between fashionable and fusty.
If you’re sensitive to style, you’ll prefer Everly. It fits with today’s trends far better than Beverly does.
But if you’re someone who isn’t concerned about style, or prefers to go against style, then you may not automatically go for Everly. In fact, you may be more attracted to Beverly because it’s the choice that most modern parents would avoid.
If you’ve ever thought about intentionally giving your baby a dated name (like Debbie, Grover, Marcia, or Vernon) for the sake of uniqueness within his/her peer group — if you have no problem sacrificing style for distinctiveness — then this list is for you.
Years ago, the concept of “contrarian” baby names came up in the comments of a post about Lois. Ever since then, creating a collection of uncool/contrarian baby names has been on my to-do list.
Finally, last month, I experimented with various formulas for pulling unstylish baby names out of the SSA dataset. Keeping the great-grandparent rule in mind, I aimed for names that would have been fashionable among the grandparents of today’s babies. The names below are the best results I got.
Today’s name interview is with Vincenza, a 29-year-old from Northern Virginia.
What’s the story behind her name?
My name is a skip-generational name, I was named after my maternal grandmother, who was named after her grandmother. The originator was one of a set of orphaned twins. Apparently people were very creative with names in Sicily back then because she was Vincenza and he Vincenzo. Family rumor has it that she traveled to the US with his documentation (he had passed away). But mostly, according to my mom, I was given the name because “it was pretty.”
What does she like most about her name?
I love the sound of it. I like the fact that it’s not very common, but it’s relatively accessible as most people have heard the masculine form at one time or another. It can really be an icebreaker.
(She’s right about the name not being common. Only about a dozen baby girls are named Vincenza every year in the U.S.)
What does she like least about her name?
I dislike the fact that there are so many people who simply cannot pronounce it, even after I have done so for them. I really don’t understand why this is, unless the Italian spelling has tied their brain in knots when they’ve tried for the “ch” sound in the middle. I usually go by Vincy, largely due to this pronunciation problem. I don’t think it’s worth the hassle of correcting and instructing, and the diminutive was what I used when I was younger. Vincy comes with issues, too, actually. I believe there are people out there who still think my name is Lindsay…
Finally, would Vincenza recommend that her name be given to babies today?
I honestly believe that babies should be given the name Vincenza if their parents feel inclined. I have an automatic discussion point when it comes to strangers (this includes job interviews), and I’ve found it helps build rapport to discuss something as deeply personal as a name. Of course, I could just be partial…
Many transgender people end up changing their names. Some pick new names that are very masculine or very feminine to make a clear statement about their identity. Others simply alter their birth name a bit (e.g., Charlotte to Charlie) for a more subtle change.
I’m really curious about why these new names are chosen, so I went out and searched for some stories. Here are three good ones I’ve collected so far.
Krista Whipple didn’t get it right first time. Her first chosen name, Kaitlyn Taylor, reflected two things – the pressure to get away from her birth name, Benjamin Whipple, and a desire to be one of the masses.
“I researched common baby names from around the time I was born because I felt I could ‘hide’ easier if I was one of tens, hundreds or even thousands.”
“The time came for me to tell my father, who I feared rejection from the most,” says Krista, president of the Gender Identity Center of Colorado. “We had the conversation and an apparent miracle occurred – my dad not only supported me, but he surprised me a step further when he told me, had I been born a girl, my name would have been Krista.
“It was at that point that the second name revolution occurred and that name has stuck with me ever since. I truly believed it was my name by right as I had been born a girl, albeit not in the physical sense.”
[T]he thing I love most about the name Silas is that I don’t know anyone else with that name. I’ve never met another Silas and so I don’t have a picture in my head of what one looks like, sounds like, acts like. Silas is a blank slate. If I were a Matt or a Jack or an Andrew I’d feel as if I had to live up to that name, as if I had to do it justice. If I were a Charlie, I’d feel as if I were carrying around my great-grandfather’s name, his legacy. But Silas is mine.
Sometimes, since strangers do not always read me as male right away, people assume that I am a girl named Silas—it doesn’t sound all that masculine, at least not the way a name like John or Joseph does. Part of me hates it when this happens, but at the same time, I’m a little bit grateful that the name borders on the land between masculine and feminine, the way I do. I see Silas as someone who can cross over into one or the other anytime he wants, anytime he needs to. I’m the guy they call when they need someone to help move their couch, or when they need something off the top shelf and can’t reach—and I balance it out by being the guy they call, too, when they can’t remember how to cast on stitches for the scarf they’re knitting, or when they need a good chocolate chip cookie recipe. That’s why Silas works for me. I can carry that name with me as I learn how to be a man, learn to navigate this land of men’s bathrooms and facial hair and talking to girls as a straight man without losing sight of who I am, who I used to be. And, in the end, what more could I want from a name?
For most of the band’s history, Gabel has been officially credited as “Tom.” But he’s always been “Tommy” to his family and friends, and he prefers it right now because it sounds less masculine. Once he starts fully presenting as a female, though, he’ll go by a new name that he picked out. The last name, Grace, is his mom’s maiden name. The middle name, Jane, he just thinks is pretty. And his first name is the one his mother would have chosen. “It’s Laura,” he says. “Laura Jane Grace.”
Back in 2007, Tom mentioned the name Laura in the lyrics of the song “The Ocean”:
If I could have chosen, I would have been born a woman
My mother once told me she would have named me Laura
I would grow up to be strong and beautiful like her.
Every story I’ve read so far mentions the name each person would have gotten had they been born the other gender (physically). Many times, this is the name they opt for. Silas is one the exceptions — he would have been a Scott.
And now the question of the day: If you were going to change genders, what new name would choose for yourself, and why?