Ever wonder why Southerners have such a love affair with monograms? Is it because we romanticize the past? Or that we picture our plantation-owning ancestors monogramming their lighters, silver, leather goods, and shirts to show ownership, pride, and prestige? I, for one, came from a long line of modest preachers and farmers who were anything but wealthy. I can't remember a single thing that my grandma owned that was monogrammed—and she was a very Southern lady. These days, every Mom below the Mason-Dixon line can pay a few extra bucks a pop to have their fill-in-the-blank item emblazened with initials. Now, I'm not saying the monogram should be put to bed (I own a few marked pieces myself), but sometimes, people just go overboard. A few months ago, I was flipping through a J. Crew catalog when I stumbled on this article written by the wise Glenn O'Brien, a long-time GQ columnist. He posed this question: Why limit monograms to your initials? He suggests that rather than go the first-middle-last-name route, why not select three letters that speak to your interests or attitude about life? Did you know that Elvis Presley had TCB (Taking Care of Business) monogrammed on everything? O'Brien himself prefers AHA (which I'm guessing could be "Almost Had it All" or "Accidents Happen Always"??). What would your non-initial monogram be? Just imagine the kick you'd get out of explaining it.