A recent nameberry post reminded me that, whilst I can figure out which full name I love enough for nickname Teddie, the Indie conundrum continues. I
love adore the name Indie, but deep down, I feel I need to find a suitable full name, trouble is, I can’t…
Let’s start with the ind- names:
– I really like how this name sounds, it has a playful element to it, which I’ve found is ‘my’ thing when it comes to naming, but, it’s a place name, which really bugs me since I have no connection to the state of Indiana.
I know two Indiana’s in real life, one is nicknamed Annie, the other Diana.
– A logical solution to the above problem is this name. I’m English, and we used to own India back in the day, nowdays India is still part of the commonwealth, of which the Queen is the head (hence why all the leaders of the Commonwealth are invited to the wedding). My problem with India is due to my uncomfortableness with using place names, what if, in the future [hypothetically], India becomes synonymous with a major conflict (much like Egypt, Libya and Syria at the moment, of which I’m sure their are children running around with those names), or something of the like.
When it comes to the etymology of India, it derives from Indus, which itself is derived from the Old Persian word Hindu, from the Sanskrit Sindhu, the historic local name for the Indus River. Indians were referred to as Indoi by the ancient Greeks, meaning the people of Indus.
Another name recognised by the Constitution of India (which is in common use in various languages used in India) is Bharat, derving from the legendary King Bharata, who appears in Hindu scriptures.
– It’s playful, but alas, my local bus (which stylises itself as the very stylish way to go) is called indigo. It’s also the name of a low-cost Airline service in India: IndiGo.
As for the origins of Indigo: India is believed to be the oldest center of indigo dyeing in the Old World. It was a primary supplier of indigo dye to Europe as early as the Greco-Roman era. The association of India with indigo is reflected in the Greek word for dye, which was indikon. The Romans used the term indicum, which passed into Italian dialect and eventually into English as the word indigo.
Indigo was defined as a spectral colour by Sir Isaac Newton when he devised and defined the optical spectrum.
– I love the sound of this name, plus it means he who possesses raindrops, whic has to be one of my most favourite name meanings I’ve come across. But it also leads onto the drawback with this name. It’s a male name, specifically the name of the Hindu God of Rainfall amongst other things. This may not be an issue, were I not best friends with a hindu girl.
– I love the sound of this name. She means brilliant beauty in Sanskrit, but I struggle to see past her origins, since I don’t have a drop of Indian blood in me. I have French, Welsh, Irish and English blood, but alas, not Indian, thus I’m hesistant to draw names from cultures which are not mine, since my personal belief is that you should be proud of your origins.
One thing I struggled to find is the relative popularity of Indira in India, although the only female Prime Minister of India was named Indira: Indira Ghandi.
– We’re moving away from India now, and onto Indonesia, where this name means pretty, so we have a similar name, and a similar meaning. The best known Indah I can find is Dita Indah Sari, an indonesian trade unionist and socialist activist.
– And now onto France, I’ve participated in several French exchanges to the Indre-et-Loire Région in France, where there is the Indre (and Loire) River.
And then we have some other choices:
– I don’t like the usual nickname for this name:Minty, but I’m thinking India could be an alternative. The name Araminta has an unknown meaning, first used by William Congreve in his play The Old Bachelor, and now viewed by many to be an upper class British name.
It could be an alteration of the Greek name Amynta, which means defender.
– A bold choice, from the word English cinder, which is a pyroclastic material (lava or magma). Cinders are either intrusive igneous (magma cooled inside the earth) or extrusive igneous (lava cooled outside of the earth). Cinders are similar to pumice, which has so many cavities and is such low-density that it can float on water. Pumice or cinders are used in soap, xeriscaping, mulch, and rock gardens.
– This name means either small, trivial or else sparkling in Old Norse. In Norse legend this was the name of a dwarf who, with his brother Brokk, made many magical items for the gods.
This name is a male name, which makes me question using this name.
– This idea is based upon the idea of Cindy being a nickname for Cynthia, and if you chop off the c, you get Indy, or Indie.
A form of the Greek Kynthia which means woman from Kynthos. This was an epithet of the Greek moon goddess Artemis, given because Kynthos was the mountain on Delos on which she and her twin brother Apollo were born. It was not used as a given name until the Renaissance, and it did not become common in the English-speaking world until the 19th century, peaking circa 1960s. This name has an association with lunar meanings, perfect if your child is born on a full moon.
– Indie works perfectly as a nickname for Ingrid, and I doubt that she’ll become massively popular name in the coming year. My problem with this name is that it feels rather serious to me, and I’m not sure I’m comfortable with using a serious name for a child of mine.
From the Old Norse name, meaning Ing is beautiful, derived from the name of the Germanic god Ing combined with fríðr, meaning beautiful.
– I class this amongst my great ideas, but my gut tells me this name is going to skyrocket in the next few years, since she’s already especially popular in the UK, or at least in my neighbourhood.
Her noted use in literary is in the play by Shakespeare: Cymbeline (1609), where she was based on a legendary character named Innogen. The name Innogen is likely to be Gaelic in origin, and mean maiden (from the Gaelic, inghean).
– It means wise one and all knowing, and it’s a variant of Kendra, a named which peaked in 1987, which may work in Kindra’s favour, making it look like a fresh alternative to the dated Kendra, much like Juniper is heralded as a fresh, new alternative to Jennifer.
Personally, I hear kindler (which is the thin dry stick used to ignite a fire) when I hear this name, and kinder, the German word for child.
– Originally a male name, it means island of linden trees, and is the name of my Auntie, meaning I can never use it (my family hate family names), but I much prefer it to Linda.
Lindsay Lohan is one of the notable bearers, and not the best bearer. Lindsay peaked a decade or so ago, meaning she suffers the same stale-ness as Kendra, mentioned above.
A rather selfish choice, since my name is Lucy, just Lucy (although I prefer Lou), but I find myself drawn to it. The rationale behind using Indie as a nickname for Lucinda is the same as the one for Cynthia.
Lucinda is, of course, an elaboration of Lucy, which comes from the latin lux, meaning light.
– Perhaps the name that appeals to me the most on this list, she has an almost regal sound to her, and I can appreciate her, perhaps despite her lack of playfullness. I really like Primrose (more so as a first name than before), so can you name two daughters Rose? Primrose and Rosalinde, nicknamed Rin and Indie? It’s a thought.
As well as being an elaboration of Rose, Rosalinde derives from the Germanic elements, hros, meaning horse and linde, meaning soft, tender.
How about Jacinda, nickname Indie?