As a boy, Henry showed a very early interest in clothing, his mother and (probably) getting his ass kicked after school every day. As a teenage act of rebellion, Henry would reportedly sing Protestant psalms to his younger sister. Not exactly the 16th century equivalent to throwing on a leather jacket and riding away from home on a motorcycle, but it probably caused his parents just as much grief. This French fashionista bedecked himself with couture that was more Paris Hilton and less 16th century Paris. Henry's fondness for miniature dogs, transvestite-themed galas and dressing like an extra from Purple Rain further gained him quite the reputation as a real dude's dude, and an embarrassing nickname of Biblical proportions.
If historians weren't such a stodgy bunch, this 9th century AD Danish viking chieftain would be known as "Ivar the Bonerless." Of course, that nickname wouldn't be entirely accurate, as Ivar gained his moniker from a case of osteogenesis imperfecta, a genetic bone disorder that makes your bones extraordinarily brittle.
Either way, it's probably an unfair nickname for any viking berserker. And it gets even more unjust when you realize he had extraordinarily breakable bones and his job entailed getting wasted and killing everything in sight wearing only a bear's skin and a 1,000-yard stare. The modern day equivalent of Ivar would be a peanut plant employee with a peanut allergy who went to work everyday wearing a tuxedo made of peanut shells. And then got nicknamed fatso because he was always swollen to twice the size of a normal man.