A Brief History of My Name

Number of social activities ruined by a Binta-meltdown this week: 1
Plans for Sunday: I'll actually be watching the Seahawks football game
In the Attic: What is it like having Tiffany for a name?

When I was growing up in small-town Great Falls, Montana, there was a little shop on Central Ave. called "Tiffany's Attic." I believe they sold little trinkets, knick-knacks, and other small ornamental objects. But I really can't remember for sure. Which is strange, because one would think that a store bearing my name in the mid 1980's would be high on my list of favorite places to go.

You see, the name Tiffany was not all that common back when I was younger. In fact, my parents deliberately chose the unusual name of Tiffany, because of our common surname: Smith. They wanted something very unique that would contrast the blandness. I can appreciate that effort - I feel that they were quite successful. I never had to be Tiffany S. in my elementary classes, I frequently have the freedom of simply signing my name as "Tiffany," without adding my last name. Evidently, at one point, Mom and Dad had considered the name Celeste as one of their candidates. Eew! I am more than thankful that they opted for the other one. Plus, "Celeste's Attic" has no where near the same fluidity as "Tiffany's Attic." (Which is something that downtown store owner in Great Falls was acutely aware of!)

While I can currently appreciate the thoughtfulness that went in to the selection of my name, I was not so understanding when I was a child. Back in the 1980's, It was common for retailers to provide pins, T- shirts, key chains, and other merchandise bearing male and female names. Obviously, they did some marketing research beforehand, and in an attempt to be efficient in their expense costs, marketed to the widest population possible by printing the most common names.

When I was 8, however, it just felt like "The Man" was singling me out.

I remember spinning the display racks in vain, gazing through all of the Jennifers, Amys, and Kims. Wishing so badly that I had been named Lisa, so I could have a miniature Montana license plate with my name spelled across it. I would have taken the name Jessica, so I could buy the package of rainbow pencils with letters in gold. Nothing ever had the name Tiffany. The closest I could get was Tracy, and only on occasion.

Until one fateful day, when I happened upon a display of one-inch white heart pins with a rainbow arching across it. Printed clearly, in all capital letters, you guessed it: TIFFANY.

I wore that pin proudly until junior high school, when that kind of jewelery no longer remained cool.

One would guess that one benefit of having a name like Tiffany would be that it is a difficult name to make fun of. Sadly, you'd be wrong. Throughout elementary school, highly creative boys were still able to develop names like "Tiff-a-nanny-goat" and "Tiff-my-fanny." But the most offensive nickname came from... well, me. You need to understand, the name Tiffany is a mouthful for a 2-year-old, so saying my name came out sounding like "Tit-ninny." Now when my friends from college found out that tasty secret, they grabbed hold of it like a 1983 mom getting her hands on a Cabbage Patch doll. They abbreviated the name, however, and in that social circle, I am simply known as "Tit."

Those friends from college had an interesting first impression of my name, however. My freshman roommate shared with me that upon reading the letter from the housing department telling her that her new roommate would be a girl named Tiffany, they conjured up an image of a snotty, well-dressed princess. Imagine their surprise when a shy punk rock girl with a shaved head and combat boots showed up.

For a while, my dad tried calling me "TJ." But that just didn't fit me, so it didn't stick. I am frequently called "Tiff" by others, but the person who did it the best was my brother. I don't remember him ever calling me Tiffany. When he was little, his speech problems made my name sometimes sound like "Chiff." I was asked once if he was from Boston. I figured that it was a little ridiculous to ask, since I obviously had lived in Great Falls since birth.

That little shop in Great Falls is no longer there. But it certainly provided me with some satisfaction of seeing my name printed somewhere other than the top of a spelling test. And, of course, it was the inspiration behind the name of the blog you have just read.