What’s in a Name? Forgotten British Names of the Past

 

Ever wonder what happened to names like Hilda, Norman, or Enid? This nostalgic look back explores the once-popular British names that defined generations — and quietly disappeared from everyday life.

 

What's In a Name?

My name is Martin. I’ve no idea who chose it for me — Mam? Dad? A coin toss? I never asked. Apparently, it was a popular name in the early 1960s, so perhaps they simply went with fashion. Not that “fashionable” is the word you’d associate with “Martin” these days. Dependable, perhaps. I might have picked something else.

Names, like hemlines and pop bands, go in and out of fashion. Some have their moment in the sun, then quietly slip away, only to be revived decades later by a new generation of parents who think they’re wonderfully vintage.

Others never quite make a comeback. They seem to be too firmly anchored to another time, another place, another era entirely.

Take a look at the top baby names in the UK in 2024, and it’s a different world altogether.

For boys, the top five last year were Muhammad, Noah, Oliver, Arthur, and Leo.

For girls — Olivia, Amelia, Lily, Isla, and Ivy.

Arthur surprised me, though. A name from the past. I came across quite a few Arthur's in the 1960s and 70s. Not just the historical ones, like King Arthur. There was Arthur Lowe of Dad’s Army fame and Arthur Askey and his ghost train. In tennis, Arthur Ashe won Wimbledon in 1975.

Arthur was the number one boys’ name in Wales in 2024. Not bad for a bloke who once pulled a sword from a stone. Arthur, it seems, never truly goes out of style; it just goes to sleep for a few decades.

But what about the names that have gone quiet? The ones that once filled playgrounds and office chats, pub quiz teams and post office queues. The Hilda's, the Normans, the Enid's of yesteryear.

Where did they all go?

Time for a nostalgic wander through a few of them.

Hilda

Once common across Britain, particularly among the working classes in the early 20th century, Hilda comes from the Old Norse hildr, meaning “battle”. A tough name, and there was probably none tougher than Hilda Ogden from Coronation Street. Jean Alexander played her from 1964 to 1987, with her curlers, her flying ducks, and her famous “muriel” on the wall. Hilda and her long-suffering husband Stan, the Ogden's of the street.

The only other Hilda I recall was Hilda Braid, who played Florence in Citizen Smith. Robert Lindsay’s Wolfie Smith shouted “Power to the people!” from revolutionary Tooting. Braid, as Florence, brought a mix of motherly naivety and comic relief. I doubt there are many Hilda's in Tooting these days.

Enid

Enid is one of those names that seems destined for the world of writing. We have a best-selling author, 600 million worldwide and counting, Enid Blyton. From Noddy to The Famous Five, she was a prolific writer who had the output of an AI writer today.

Her books were sometimes banned for being too old-fashioned, too class-conscious, or too politically incorrect for the time, but they were read all the same. Even today, millions still read them, though probably on a Kindle rather than with a torch in a secret smugglers’ cave as the tide comes in.

Norman

Now here’s a name that wore a flat cap and knew how to fix a leaking tap. Norman Wisdom springs to mind. The comedy actor whose slapstick films made him a national treasure in the 1950s and ’60s. He was the underdog’s underdog, the loser who won in the end, and the man who shouted “Mr Grimsdale!”

Then there was Norman Hunter, Leeds United’s fearsome defender known as “Norman bites your legs Hunter”. You can almost hear the crowd chanting his name through a haze of cigarette smoke, cold pies and Bovril.

And let’s not forget the schoolboy confusion of learning about the “Norman Conquest”. I remember wondering, “Who was this Norman, and how did he conquer an entire country?”

Wilfred

Wilfred has a certain old-school feel about it, like it belongs to another time. It’s the sort of name that enjoys a crossword in a gentleman’s club. A man who dresses for dinner and spends time at the theatre. Wilfred Hyde-White, the actor, played countless British gentlemen in films and even turned up in an episode of Columbo.

There was also Wilfred Owen, the poet whose words about the First World War are as relevant now as they ever were.

It’s not a name you hear in the playground much today. I knew someone at school who had the first name William and the second name Fred (Frederick). We would jokingly call him Wilfred. I forget how or why we came up with the name.

Who knows, perhaps one day “Baby Wilfie” will make a comeback.

Mildred

Another that’s largely faded from use, although it was often shortened to Millie back in the day.

The most famous Mildred I recall was Yootha Joyce’s character in George and Mildred, the 1970s sitcom spin-off from Man About the House. Mildred was the suburban social climber, always striving for a better life, while George, her husband, was content with being unemployed, watching the telly and a pint.

Yootha is another name you don’t hear much these days. Google it, and you will come up with Yootha Joice as the main, and only famous example of a name long gone.

There are plenty more that have slipped from everyday use — Irene, Stanley, Ethel, Reginald, Beryl, Cyril — “nice one, Cyril.” Each one a small time capsule of a Britain that smoked Woodbines, liked a drink down the pub, and watched black-and-white telly.

But I will save those for another day.

Names tell stories. They give away our age, our heritage, and sometimes our parents’ taste in popular culture at the time — remember Kylie and Jason, Charlene and Scott? They remind us of the people we grew up with, the characters we watched, and the lives that brushed against our own.

So, what’s in a name?

 

Image from - httpscommons.wikimedia.orgwikiFileNorman_Wisdom_(1965).jpg512px-Norman_Wisdom_(1965) Made available, free for use.