Mirabel traces back to the Latin mirabilis, “wonderful,” a word medieval England borrowed when it craved names that sounded equal parts pious and poetic. Since then it has surfaced intermittently in literature—Congreve’s urbane Mr. Mirabell, a scattering of Victorian heroines, and most recently the bespectacled lead of Disney’s Encanto—yet it has avoided the stampede toward the Top 500. American data place it reliably in the 800–900 range, with annual births hovering in the low hundreds, a volume that keeps it recognisable but never commonplace. The French mee-rah-BEL offers a soft, lilting contour; the English MIR-uh-bel provides a crisper, desk-ready cadence, so parents can select their preferred degree of polish. What remains constant is the built-in compliment: to name a child Mirabel is, quite literally, to call her “wonderful”—a subtle flourish that sidesteps the louder virtue names while still carrying a quiet confidence.
| Mirabel Topham - | 
| Mirabel Osler - |