Las Vegas means The Meadows. It was named in 1829 by one Rafael Rivera, a scout in the party of Antonio Armijo, a Mexican trader traveling on the Old Spanish Trail from Santa Fe to southern California (which had been blazed in 1776 by two Franciscan friars). Rivera discovered a shortcut along the route by way of Big Springs; he was the first non-Indian to set foot on the land that he called Las Vegas.
As far as we can tell, the first reference to Las Vegas as Sin City or City of Sin was in the title of a 1963 book penned by two casino executives, Dick Taylor and Pat Howell, Las Vegas: City of Sin? This book was one in a succession of similar "exposes" of Las Vegas released in the early to mid-1960s that combined a wide-eyed view of the city’s glittery surfaces with a peek at its slimy underbelly. The whole era is remembered today as "the Diatribe."
Otherwise, it’s not too much of a stretch that Las Vegas is called Sin City. Greed, lust, envy, gluttony, and sloth constitute five of the seven deadly sins, after all, all of which describe this city.
We’ve also heard it said that Sin City is a sort of code for Singles City. Far-fetched, sure, but not as out there as another idea we’ve heard: that Sin City refers to the sinful all-you-can-eat desserts at the buffets.
Ultimately, we figure, Sin City is just a likely nickname for Las Vegas, same as Detroit is the Motor City or Motown.
Other nicknames for Las Vegas include: the Entertainment Capital of the World, the Gambling Capital of the World, the Marriage Capital of the World, the Neon Capital of the World, the City of Lights, the City of Second Chances, Lost Wages (credited to Milton Berle), and a new one, the Bone Yard (for all the unfinished construction on display).
As for "Vegas" being frowned upon by locals, we’ve heard that ever since we’ve lived here. It seems to us be similar to the way it’s drummed into visitors’ heads that it’s hopelessly uncool to call San Francisco "Frisco." (The late San Francisco columnist Herb Caen was the point man on that detail; he published a book as far back as 1953, Don’t Call it Frisco.) Though we’ve never seen anything official about it, we suspect it’s just a way to separate us (the locals) from them (the out-of-towners), though it doesn't really; we call it Vegas on occasion, both in speaking and in print, as do most other Las Vegans we know.
Anyone have a different idea? We're open to all suggestions.
