Yesterday I started to write about how spoiled middle-class kids are (including my own) and how parents need to stop praising them for mediocrity because acknowledging and learning from failure is an important part of becoming an adult. And while I am still annoyed by young women who say everything as if it’s a question and teenage boys who think 4256 hours logged playing video games will land them jobs as video game creators; I am more annoyed by a new level of stupidity I’ve discovered within my own generation. I discovered it last night on the reality show Pregnant in Heels.
OMG. Yes, I love reality t.v. and I’m intelligent. I’m not exactly alone there though, now am I? Give me a “what what!” if you secretly admire Tori Spelling’s ability to make gobs of $$ doing a whole lot of nothing.
Anyway, Pregnant in Heels is a docu-drama (reality show was sooo last year) that follows Rosie, a Maternity Concierge. Her job is to help rich Manhattan mommies-to-be contribute to the economic recovery by squeezing out a 7 pound reason to employ a playgroup coach, mommy-and-me stylist and two nannies.
Last night’s show featured a couple who hired Rosie’s to help name their 3rd baby. But they were rich a-holes, so they called it “developing their baby’s brand.” Apparently a baby’s name is the first and most important step in developing his brand. Apparently every baby needs a brand.
To this end, Rosie conducted a focus group and gathered a think tank of experts including a pop-culture writer, advertising exec, fashion designer, and a poet (who clearly shopped at thrift stores and wondered how on earth he’d ended up in this meeting). Before the think tank got to work, Mom and Dad gave them a few guidelines:
1. Nothing decorative (food names included, so scratch Broccoli Rabe and Biscotti off your list.)
2. Nothing ending in an “S.” (??)
3. Nothing beginning with the letters R, S, T, L, N or E. (Not Wheel of Fortune fans, I guess.)
We all have the inevitable how will other kids make fun of this name thoughts, but come on!
I couldn’t afford the think tank when I had my first son so I just gave him my maiden name (which I’d traded for him getting to keep his foreskin–but that’s another story). If you put an S on the front of it you have a great nickname that means he’s stinky (which he totally is, so bonus!). My solution to the inevitable playground jeers is to call him this nickname myself–often and with love. He’s in kindergarten now and this morning I yelled “Bye Stinky, have a great day!” as I dropped him off at school. He didn’t even flinch and waved goodbye with a great big smile.