What’s in a Name?
Tracey Spicer for Sunday Magazine, news.com.au, 22 February 2013.
Photo: “I was born a Spicer, and I’ll die a Spicer,” says Tracey, Sunday Magazine
YEARS ago, I had a friend called Barb. Nothing unusual about that, except her last name was Dwyer.
Say it aloud: barbed wire. She couldn't wait to get married so she could take her husband's surname.
I get that. It's not easy being compared to a piece of sharp and twisted metal. But here's the thing - for the life of me, I can't understand why any other woman would choose to change her last name.
For better or for worse, I was born a Spicer and I'll die a Spicer. Sure, I'm tired of being labelled Old Spice or the little-known sixth Spice Girl. And of being nicknamed Spice Rack, when my bosom isn't as firm as it used to be. But it's part of who I am.
Deborah Dempsey, a senior lecturer in sociology at Melbourne's Swinburne University of Technology, says between 80 and 95 per cent of Australian women assume their husband's name.
Case in point, the talented Nine Network newsreader Alicia Gorey. All of a sudden, there was a journalist on TV who looked and sounded just like her, but whose last name was Loxley. I felt discombobulated.
Then last week, a colleague in her mid-20s brought in her wedding photos. I couldn't help myself and blurted out: "Why didn't you keep your own name?
"Oh, I didn't even think about it," she replied. "It's just what you do, right?”
Even Beyoncé, who's cashed in on the girl-power movement for years, has called her upcoming world tour The Mrs Carter Show, in honour of her husband Jay-Z.
Perhaps it's a retro thing. Maybe I should whack on a girdle and bring Hubby a scotch and his slippers after a hard day in the office. So much for Mad Men; are we mad women?
The reason many women give is, "It's just easier." (But it's not; applying for a passport, bank account or driver's licence is easier if you've always had the same surname.) Some friends put it down to pragmatism: a common surname is better for the kids.
In our case, Hubby promised his dying grandfather he'd carry on the Thompson name. Occasionally, the kids come out with, "Mum, I don't think you're really part of our family because you're a Spicer and we're Thompsons." To which I reply, "Excellent, now I'm a single girl with no kids, I'm going out for a facial and a long lunch. I might even snag a date with a handsome guy. Woo-hoo!”
The latest trend is for women to use their surname as the baby's middle name. It's viewed as a vanguard of feminism, but the man still retains last-naming rights.
Latin Americans use a double surname, with the patronymic then the matronymic. Mexican president Enrique Peña Nieto bears his mother's last name. This is also common in matrilineal communities in India, Indonesia and Iceland.
In the US, couples are merging their surnames. For instance, if Jane Smithfield marries John Winterford, they become the Winterfields or the Smithfords. Which is all well and good, unless Sally Pocock marries James Ravenshead. Oops.
However, with the legalisation of same-sex marriages, the trend is for both parties to maintain the status quo. I tend to live by the philosophy, 'To each their own.' If a woman wants to change her name, for whatever reason, that's her choice. But, personally, it would make me feel like a chattel: an item of tangible movable property - such as a piece of barbed wire. And nobody wants to be called that.