There are two types of people in the world: Those of us who can buy a little novelty license plate with our name on it, and those of us who are f-cked.
My name is “Wendi” ending in an “i.” Guess which type I am.
My sisters always found their names whenever we visited a tourist gift shop. Mt. Rushmore mug personalized with “Lisa”? Here you go! Winnipeg Zoo magnet reading “Amy”? Why, sure! A piece of shit anything from anywhere that says “Wendi”? Fat chance, freakface. Take this Navajo Nation ballpoint pen that says “Wanda,” close enough, and go write an angry note to your parents about their late 60’s journey into creative spelling.
And yet I spun those tall racks of personalized license plates with fresh hope every time we saw one. I’d quickly whisk A-F aside, make my way past G-M and N-T, then I’d catch my breath in anticipation when the column came to a shuddering stop at U-Z. U-Z: The unsexiest part of the alphabet. If the alphabet were a beauty pageant, U-Z would be the pudgy girls with adolescent mustaches, pit stains and cankles who get blamed for clogging the toilet in the dressing room. Sure, we may have a few “Ursulas” and “Yolandas” in our zoo crew, and maybe a “Zoe” here or there, but let’s be serious. Little baby “Walburga” ain’t gonna be no prima ballerina.
Once at the U-Z column, I’d immediately narrow my eyes and get into a crouch position. Because much like catfish, sea cucumbers and stock market speculators, “W” names are always the bottom feeders. I’d quickly scan the row of offerings, hoping against hope that I’d finally find what I’d been searching for my entire childhood. The one item that would finally complete me and give my bedroom door some much needed pizzazz. “There’s your name!” one of my sisters would yelp. “I see your name!” My heart would start to explode with joy, but then it would screech to a halt because my head knew what would come next. My head knew what always came next.
“Oh. It’s a WENDY with a Y. Never mind.”
My parents would see me moping in the third row of the station wagon as we pulled away from the latest tourist trap, and roll their eyes and tell me it wasn’t so bad. “But it is so bad,” I’d think while drowning my sorrows in a bootlegged Jackie Collins novel. “It’s the worst. And when I turn 18, I’m totally changing my name to Olivia Newton-John Willson. Just you wait.”
Know what’s pathetic and doesn’t work? Making a “WENDI” license plate out of notebook paper and taping it to your Huffy bike.
Know what’s also pathetic and also doesn’t work, and gets you stuck at home watching The Love Boat on Saturday night with your parents instead of going to your friend’s slumber party? Stealing your sister’s novelty license plate and writing WENDI on the back of it with nail polish, then taping it to your Huffy bike and losing it in a gutter.
When my boys were born, I didn’t choose their names based on whether or not they’d be easily found on gift shop crap. However, I didn’t not not choose their names based on that, either. But while one would think SAM and JACK are personalized novelty Nirvana, while one would think we’d be practically choking on magnets and jackknifes and giant, hilarious pencils, one would be wrong. Because guess who’s a complete asshole? The people who decide on the 100 or so names that make the souvenir cut, that’s who.
Question: How many DESTINYs and DEVONs do you know?
Answer: Zero. Nobody knows a Destiny or a Devon. And if you do, I don’t believe you.
Still, every single gift shop rack of name items has so many Destinys and Devons, you’d think that they were Jesus’ parents instead of Mary and Joseph. Oh, Virgin Destiny, we pray to you. The stores also have plenty of things that say TRINITY, TRENTON and LARRY on them. Are there currently a bunch of kids named TRINITY running around at recess? Are there toddlers named LARRY buying personalized flashlights? I don’t know, I don’t know, I DON’T KNOW.
Of course, now you can go on the Internet and personalize anything. And I do mean anything, Etsy feminine hygiene crafters. FYI: If you’re buying a monogrammed tampon, you may have a slight narcissism problem, friend. But being able to customize everything is good news considering that we now live in a time when there are approximately 5,302 spellings of “Kayleigh,” and kindergartners are named “Justice” and “Pharaoh.” Just last week I met a middle schooler named “Trivet”–pronounced “tree-vay.” Honestly, spelling “Wendy” with an “i” is nothing compared to spelling “Jackson” with two A’s and two X’s, so my parents were obviously way ahead of their time. I should probably consider dropping the grudge at some point.
Still, there’s just something cool about walking into a gift shop and finding your name on something when you’re a kid. That’s why I recently tried to buy my son Jack a Texas Ranger badge from the Texas State Capitol gift shop. I spun the rack past A-F, stopped on G-M and eagerly looked. I knew I didn’t need to crouch because the J’s, unlike the W’s, are always at eye level. The J’s are the grand prize winners of the alphabet beauty pageant. Just ask any Jennifer. I’m sure there’s one near you right now.
But not only was there no Jack badge, there wasn’t even a space for Jack, even though it’s been one of the top 50 names for the past 100 years. There was JEREMIAH. There was JARED. There was JONAH. But no JACK. My heart hurt for him, and not wanting my child to go through the pain and suffering I had for most of my childhood, I knew I needed to comfort him. So I bent down, looked him in the eyes, and told him to cheer up because it wasn’t that big a deal. Not finding your name isn’t something worth getting upset over for even a second. It just isn’t.
“Besides,” I said while we walked up to the register to buy his personalized badge, “I really think you’ll like your new name, don’t you, Devon? Go tell your brother Destiny the news.”
Their bedroom doors have so much more pizzazz now.
Thank you for representing all of us whose parents just wanted us “to be different”. Ugh.
Love, Melisa with one s
A-freaking-men. Preach. I also thought Megan was a shoe in for personalized products and was also wrong. I hope Trinity is really happy with all her stuff, though.
– Shannan (yes, with 2 a’s – thanks, Dad!)
Hahaha.
If only we had named our boys Pork Fried and Plain White. I feel like we totally screwed them out of a great future.
I feel your pain sister! I was always an S…..called at the end of the list forever!!! I married a B, and life was much happier. Got divorced and back to the end of the line!! Darn it!
Oh my goodness I have not laughed out loud in such s long time. Seriously there are tears running down my leg.
But I actually do know someone named Destiny… and my friend is Devin instead of Devon which always gets spelled wrong by people and is hard to find novelty things of…
So let me tell you a story.
My Aunt June wanted a girl. She wanted a girl named Julie.
(it was a long time ago, so probably not Juli – but maybe)
Was it Julie as the first baby arrived, NO – Wayne
How this time for Julie? Second baby … nope, no Julie – Raymond.
Third time is a charm for Julie – right? Third baby – no pink for you – Jeffrey.
Fourth time lucky – a girl … YES.
She called her Wendy.
With a Y …. WTF?
My kids, Jared and Jenna, now in their 30’s, can probably finally find their names on this kind of stuff. They no longer care.
I so agree.. signed Sheron. That’s Sharon with an “e’ — all my life.
I had no idea I was missing out on a perfectly good whine. A sub-category of this whine was naming my son Brandon and thinking it was unusual. Just about that time, everybody was naming their son Brandon. At least, he got his little license plate. But what about poor little Bus Stop Number 9, or D’oneandonly? Even the customizers are raising their ibroughs. An apostrophe is hard to fit on a thingamabob. And, you got to sit at the front of the class, Aarons. I was always at the back with the Last Part of the Alphabet People.
My mom, upon hearing me complain about growing up and having to immediately spell my name after saying it: “It’s the PROPER ENGLISH SPELLING of Leigh.”
Me: “NO ONE CARES.” I mean, having me also go by my first and middle name was just adding insult to injury.
Ha ha ha – why yes, J names are in the middle, but believe you me, there are no personalized plates spelled “Jaime.” If you’re lucky, you might find a “Jamie.” My name wasn’t there probably to make sure there is enough room for all the “Jennifer”s. I swore when I grew up, I was going to change my name to “Jennifer.” I got mine though, when I was at the San Antonio river walk and saw those Texas Ranger personalized badges, I picked one up for my husband “Ben.”
Kristi with an i !!
Enough said!
I get it. I wanted a barette with my name on it soo bad!
Now I don’t even correct people anymore – I get email replies at
Work with my name spelled incorrectly – my email signature is literally 3 inches away on the screen. (And I do know a Destiny, middle name Sunshine )
You joked about it but seriously the main criteria I used when naming my boys was if they’d find their names on stuff. I still have memories of finding Laurie but not Lori. I once ripped the F, D & A off of a FLORIDA hat just so I’d have something with my name on it. I feel your pain.
You found a Jonah? We’ve never found anything for my kids Jonah and Simone. I thought I’d find something with Simone in France, but was told, “Zat name eez no longer populaire.” So I bought her something with her middle name trying to convince her it was like the same thing. Any guesses on how that went?
Lol. Growing up I had EVERYTHING with my name on it… My sister BrittNEY not so much! Lots of Brittany and even Britney but no 2 T’s and an E.
Well, if it helps, coming from a Jennifer born in 1980- there were never any Jennifer plates available. All of them were already gone.
When they went by height, I was still at the back-
Here, I am, a female Cameron, born in 1977. I also spun those racks with a heart full of hope, and a head full of disappointment. It took me 14 years to come fully to grips with the inherent coolness of this name 🙂 To own it, and thank my mom for the custom things she picked up for my brother and I over the years (he’s a Jameson, which was rarer then — but he could get away with Jamie).
I married a Mark, with brothers Jason and Michael. They have no idea.
Then I went and named my son Felix.
And can I just say congrats to Devon and Destiny on their new names? 😉
I know your pain. At least there was some version of your name out there on those spinning racks There was no chance in the world that the little Indian girl was ever going to find her name in the souvenir rack. I remember really, really wanting one of those stupid personalized customized your-name-in-script necklaces in high school that all the cool girls wore. I figured that there was the only chance I’d ever have of having a personalized anything. Since I wasn’t cool & my immigrant mom wasn’t spending money on anything that frivolous, I never got one of those either.
Ah, happy memories.
Oh, my son is named Peter. He has plenty of personalized tchotchkes. Because, damnit, he can,.
You’d think there’d be a lot of stuff with Mandy on them. You’d think wrong. Everything was Amanda. And due to my mom’s Barry Manilow fangirl haze, I’m just Mandy.
It wouldn’t’ have been so bad if not for the fact that my sisters were Melissa, Rebecca, and Rachel – three names that are on everything. Which means they got personalized pencils and I got “Superstar Student” pencils as if my parents were trying to overcompensate.
I still look for my name and did name my children Joseph and Elizabeth in part so they’d be able to find their names.
(As an aside, I DID hit the jackpot while traveling in the UK. Even though I was nearly thirty, I got EVERYTHING. Including an embroidered handkerchief. Because it had my name.)
This post explains so much, my friend. And not just about your chardonnay habits.
My name was a hit and miss… I screwed my daughter over though with Niamh (pronounced “Neve”). There’s always a chance of finding something in Ireland. Her name is pretty much the Ava of Ireland lol.
I am a white female ,age 75. Met my first ZOE when I was 45. never ever used my first name, teacher thought I was deaf. who and where was Carolyn, I have several friends with dogs and cats named Zoe now. or Zoie, Zoey etc. never had the barrett. My grandmother got me a napkin ring to remember their silver anniversary. I ended up with three, the engraver could not make a Cursive Z. I have never, ever met but the one Zoe (which like Joe only Zoe). yes I got drafted when 18. That was fun: have crazily named great grands, They have 4 names, but are called thing like boom, and chubby cheeks. geezzeeeeee no barrettes or bike tages for them
From one who searched in desperation and only came up with “Sharon” keychains throughout my childhood, I feel your pain. Plus, that was insanely funny.
Loved this so much. Because I can so relate. I’m Jodi (with an i) NOT A Y da**it. With the sister named Jennifer!! But I’m not still bitter at age 46. (Oh, wait, yes I am.)
My name isn’t “creative,” but Lindsey definitely reigned supreme when I was a kid. All of a sudden I’m finding Lindsay stuff everywhere. I can’t imagine there are hordes of little Lindsays running around, so I’m forced to conclude that one of us got a primo job at a novelty keychain company and is making up for lost time.
I feel your pain, I have never found anything with Caity on it. Occasionally I could find Caitlin but I only got called that when I was in trouble, so it still sucked. My little sister Emily had her name on freaking everything. My husband Jason has no clue…
Wow, I had no idea that I was still bitter about this at 35 😛 I did get a great laugh out of this article though!
Oh My GOD! I can totally relate, even though instead of crouching I had to stand on tip toes to look for mine. Born before the Little Mermaid came out, nothing had my name in it! Growing up I constantly had to correct people’s pronunciations of my name (the crab was the only one in that whole dang movie to say it right!) which I have now given up doing unless they ask. My father would embarrass me by correcting everyone, including my friends. But the key chains and mugs… *sigh* Now I find them all over the place, usually with that perpetually 13 year old red head staring back at me, and I hate her. LOL
After being disappointed my whole childhood, I found my first personalized item at 18, and even though I was a freshman in college, I still bought it, and bought another when I lost that one. My cork board at work has a mini bike license plate on it, because I found one with my name on it. So yes, I feel your pain… but the Devon’s of the world are happy to finally be represented!
I never found anything with Melina on it either. Also I have had and still have to endure people calling me Melanie, Melissa or Melinda. Even when at work and wearing my name tag people will squint their stupid eyes at it and say “Melinda”. NO! There is no D there! I love my name now as an adult but as a kid I always wanted to be Ashley or Brittany like the seventeen of those I knew at the time.
Great article!
Hahaha I love this! I had the same problems growing up- Kellie with an IE! There was stuff with Kelly written on it and sometimes even Kelli!!! But not a damn single thing with Kellie, thanks mom and dad!
It was kind of a crap shoot to find my name on things when I was a kid. It was always someone’s middle name, not really their first. You know, until Seinfeld. Of course there was also the show Taxi… Anyway, now we usually find 2/3 of my kids’ names as there is always BEN or Benjamin but not always Gavin or Katie (and her name is actually Katelyn so she has two chances). I know you wanted to know all of this. 😀
You crack me up, as usual, WENDI. Now I feel like ordering you your own mug from Zazzle, maybe with a pic of the Grand Canyon on it….?
p.s. one more story… one of my SILs is Kelley – that extra “e” at the end made sure she had NOTHING in the souvenir section so she made sure to name all of her kids names she would find… (except maybe not now, like you said…)