Federico breezes in on a warm Mediterranean wind, his four rolling syllables—feh-DEH-ree-koh—dancing like sunlight on Venetian canals. Born from the Old German roots frid (peace) and ric (ruler), he is, by definition, a “peaceful ruler,” a monarch who prefers olive branches to iron scepters. Centuries of Iberian and Italian storytellers have polished the name until it gleams: Federico García Lorca gave it poetic soul, Federico Fellini splashed it across the silver screen in technicolor dreams, and today a squad of footballers and conductors carries it onto stadiums and stages alike. In the United States, Federico has never stormed the popularity charts, yet—much like an espresso in a quiet café—he remains reliably present, averaging a cozy hundred births a year for decades. The name feels at once courtly and approachable; it promises leadership without the iron fist, artistry without the angst, and just enough pan-Latin flair to make roll call sound like a serenade.
| Federico Fellini - | 
| Federico García Lorca - | 
| Federico Chiesa - | 
| Federico Valverde - | 
| Federico Higuaín - | 
| Federico Jusid - | 
| Federico Viviani - | 
| Federico Fernández - | 
| Federico Gravina - | 
| Federico Cornaro - | 
| Federico Fagioli - | 
| Federico Caffè - | 
| Federico Krutwig - |