Deirdra, a lilting variant of the ancient Irish Deirdre, drifts onto the tongue as gently as a Celtic harp line carried on Atlantic mist, yet it holds the operatic drama of a Verdi heroine. Rooted in Old Irish legend, Deirdre was the fabled “sorrowful beauty” whose love for the warrior Naoise set hearts racing long before Romeo ever sighed for Juliet; from that tale, the name came to mean “broken-hearted” or, more softly, “woman of sorrow,” a reminder that great passion and great courage often share the same breath. In modern times Deirdra has danced in and out of American cradle rolls—peaking modestly in the espresso-tinged 1950s and again in the disco-lit 1970s—never common, always distinctive, like a single emerald set in a string of pearls. Pronounced DEER-drah in both English and Irish, it offers parents a sound as clear as church bells over Galway Bay, yet unusual enough to turn heads on a Tuscan piazza. For a daughter, Deirdra promises a spirit that can weather storms and still savor sunshine: part Irish mist, part Italian zest, and wholly unforgettable.