While at a corporate "do" the other day I was given an identity badge with my name spelt as Jackie, rather than Jacqui.

The organiser of the event noticed the error, which had been made by one of her minions, and apologised so unreservedly you'd think I'd been called Jemima or Derek.

In fact, I rather liked it that I had gone back to being a "Jackie with a k". It reminded me of my pre-pretentious teenager days before I'd switched to the "q" version. And I can see the original spelling has a certain cachet.

Other former Jackies are thinking the same way too, it seems. I read the other day that the ex-Radio One DJ Jakki Brambles has become a "Jackie" again. And I'm sure there are countless other Jakkis, Jacquis and Jacquies, Jacis and Jacquys who now see how silly it was to ever believe changing the way they spelt their name would somehow make them more interesting.

After all, no matter what combination of letters you use, it still sounds the same.

I was one of four Jackies in my class at school. We were all born during the reign of style queen Jackie Kennedy Onassis and perhaps our mums expected us to somehow turn out naturally elegant and marry rich and powerful men. Just as all the Jeans and Marilyns of their day had been destined to become sex goddesses.

By the time I was ten, however, a trashy teen mag called Jackie had cheapened the image. Since I was more into Look and Learn than pop pin-ups of Sweet and David Cassidy (I was a tedious child), I thought it best to alter my spelling. First came Jacquie, but I felt the "e" was too decorous. So I shortened it to Jacqui, which seemed more chic.

This led to a great deal of confusion among my friends and family, who did their best to go along with my wishes. Every birthday card I received from my parents for the next ten years had crossings-out or Tipex after the J.

Gradually, and much to my dismay, "Jacqui with a q" became bog standard. So then I considered joining up my first name and middle name with a hyphen, to become Jacqui-Anne. This only lasted a week, which came as a relief to my parents.

Then I thought I should start using "Jacqueline". Even though this is the name on my birth certificate, the only person who ever called me by it was my fourth form chemistry teacher Mr Griffiths, who liked long words.

My husband looked aghast when I suggested I should become a Jacqueline. He reminded me that I came from Crayford, which is the the backend of the universe for all those not familiar with south east London, and that to change my image would be to denounce my working class roots.

Since he has a ridiculously unpronounceable, unspellable Prussian name, which gives him instant individuality whether he likes it or not, I considered him ill-qualified to pass comment at the time. But now I see his point.

My name is Jacqui. Spell it how you will.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.