Dahlia

The flower arrived in Europe from Mexico in the late eighteenth century, and the botanist Anders Dahl got it named for him in 1789 — a genus of showy blooms cultivated in every shade from cream to near-black, now Mexico's national flower. The name followed the flower into English use through the nineteenth century, appearing in Trollope and Wodehouse as a name for women with a particular kind of presence, ornamental but not delicate.

In American true-crime history the name carries a darker shadow — the Black Dahlia case of 1947 gave it a noir association that kept some parents away for decades. That shadow has softened as the century receded. Dahlia has been climbing the U.S. charts since 2006 and now sits at rank 240, sustained by the broader return to botanical names and by the name's genuine sound.

Two syllables land on a long open vowel and hold it — DAH-lia — a name that sounds like it's taking its time. It pairs beautifully with names from its orbit — Dahlia Camille, Dahlia Kiara, Dahlia Diana — and takes Dahl or Lia as quiet short forms. The girl named Dahlia tends to be the most visually interesting person in any room she enters, with a talent for wearing complicated feelings simply.