Phyllis

There are some names that seem to have been permanently cast out of fashion, and way down at the bottom of that list there’s Phyllis. Poor, unloved Phyllis.

I know this because I grew up with it. Even being born in 1968, it was already an old lady name then. My peers were Gillians, Karens, and Sheenas. I was saddled with a name that sounded like it belonged to a distant great-aunt who smelled of lavender and boiled cabbage. While my classmates had those trendy little keyrings with their names on them from Woolworths, I was left empty-handed. Phyllis was not making the cut, even in the 70s.

You’d think that by now, Phyllis would have come full circle. Names like Edith, Martha, Ruby, and Maisie have all made their grand comebacks, trotting back into nurseries and primary schools like nothing ever happened. Even Agnes has had a resurgence, helped in no small part by a certain small, endearing cartoon character in Despicable Me. But Phyllis? No. Maybe I should campaign for a Phyllis character the next time they reboot the Minions?

This morning, just to confirm my suspicions, I checked the Scottish name records. And the results were bleak. Since the year 2000, many Scottish parents have dutifully handed down Phyllis as a middle name—eight pages worth of them, to be precise. Presumably, these poor children are carrying the name as an homage to a beloved (and likely deceased) granny. But as a first name? Just one. One single child in Scotland has been named Phyllis in the last 25 years. That child is now either carrying their name with defiant pride or planning to change it the second they turn 16.

My mum was definitely much more likely to have given me a common, trendy-at-the-time name - my brother is a Derek after all and she was very non-plussed when I chose a foreign name for my first born, despite him being foreign(!), and suggested very strongly that calling him 'Ryan' might have been more appropriate! I was actually meant to be a Linda, till my own granny upped and died six days before I was born. As a child I would often wonder how life would have been for Linda Buchanan? As a shy child, I would have found blending into the background instead of standing out to every teacher and child alike, quite a relief, I imagine.

I can’t say I blame them. Growing up with the name Phyllis was no picnic. While my friends’ names exuded youthful energy, mine sounded like it should be embroidered onto a lacy handkerchief. It felt like a name you were assigned at birth and somehow retired with immediately. If names had default accessories, mine came with a blue rinse and a walking stick.

The question is, why? Why has Phyllis been left to rot in the attic of history while other names of the same era have dusted themselves off and reclaimed their place in baby name books? Is it the sound? The way it doesn’t quite roll off the tongue like a Daisy or an Evie? It has no cuteness rating and sounds positively frumpy. Or is it because no modern cultural icons have emerged to make it fashionable again? No glamorous actresses, no bestselling authors, no inexplicably popular reality TV stars called Phyllis have stepped forward to rescue us from obscurity.

Even the Americans, who have an impressive track record of bringing back old-fashioned names before we do, haven’t touched it. There’s no Phyllis Kardashian, no Phyllis gracing the covers of Vogue. The closest we’ve got is Phyllis from The Office, a lovely woman but definitely the embodiment of Phyllisness - older, frumpier, middle-aged, dead-end job, slightly overweight.

And so Phyllis remains in limbo. A name too dusty for revival, too clunky for reinvention. Maybe in another hundred years, when all other names have been used up, Phyllis will finally get her turn. 

To the lone Phyllis born in Scotland in the last quarter-century—if you’re out there, I salute you. You are a rare gem. And if you ever need to talk, I understand. Oh, how I understand.