What do you call yourself if your husband's surname isn't Clooney?

Mr and Mrs Clooney. Photo / AP

So she took her husband's name after all. According to the website of the London-based law firm where Amal Alamuddin works, she will be henceforth known as Mrs Clooney. A fitting end after a fairytale wedding, I suppose: you can't get more traditional than changing your name. But as she practises her new signature, perhaps ringing around a few of the world's hottest restaurants to wonder if they might squeeze in the Clooneys at short notice, she might spare a thought for those less fortunate. What about those of us with surnames so dull, you would understand if your wife-to-be didn't want it?

A few months ago, my name was Chris Jones. You probably know a Chris Jones. After years of getting emails meant for my namesakes, I have no particular attachment to it.

So when I met, fell in love with and proposed to Sophie Evans - another surname which has a chapter in the phone book - we were both open to discussion about what our married name should be. We sat for hours in the weeks before our wedding, writing combinations Jones, Evans, Jones-Evans and Evans-Jones, even - madly - Jevans.

We couldn't decide. We tried answering imaginary phone calls with new names but cringed at each one. Double-barrelling didn't work - either with or without the hyphen (without seemed marginally less tacky), and we couldn't find a convincing Brangelina-style "mesh-up", so we reached for the nuclear option.

We ransacked our respective family trees for inspiration, which was when I suggested my mum's maiden name: Thundow. Still in use by my grandparents and by my uncle's family, here was a name that had a strong family tie but was mercifully uncommon and, to my mind, very slightly superhero-ish. Sophie loved it, too, so we both got excited by the idea of a new life spent repeatedly spelling our new unusual surname over the phone.

That was the easy bit. When friends asked Sophie whose name she'd be taking after the wedding, they were surprised by her response. Not least because it meant I had to change mine by deed poll before the big day in order for her to adopt it during the ceremony. In time, people came to see it as the romantic gesture that was intended: that, by adopting a new surname, albeit one that still had a family connection, we were both giving up something to be together. Something old, something new and something borrowed, all in one.

It was only after our wedding that I realised how unusual a move it was. Last year, nine out of 10 brides took their husband's surname, yet a third of women who marry in their twenties keep their maiden name. After a quick Google search, I also discovered a small but growing trend for men to adopt their wife's surname. In 2008, screenwriter Kris Dyer took his wife's infinitely more mis-spellable surname, Myddelton, reasoning that his was "rubbish". However, his friends were so confused by his loving gesture and, despite protestations (which included "I'm not flying the flag for metrosexuality" and "I don't consider myself particularly avant-garde"), they all but disowned him. Another groom, Martin Willey, did the same, though his decision is more understandable.

Louise Bowers, spokesman for the UK Deed Polls Service, says there has been a small but noticeable rise in the number of men taking their wife's name, but most go for the double-barrel option.

As more couples reach for a surname that can be thought of as cosmetic, rather than reflecting family ties or gender politics, it is, as ever, celebrities who have led the way.

Following the trail blazed by John Lennon in the 1960s (when he added Yoko's surname to his collection of middle names), there's now rapper Jay-Z, who added his wife Beyonce's name, and Jack Gillis, who took his wife Meg White's surname before forming indie-rock band the White Stripes.

Perhaps surprisingly, the US is more progressive when it comes to men adopting or co-opting their bride's surname; it is legal in an estimated nine states, including California and New York. In the UK, however, there is no simple way for a man to do the same through the marriage process, other than before the big day by deed poll.

For most couples, that's another thing to add to the wedmin list. But for Sophie and me, it's the best 33 quid I ever spent.