While I agree with Bear that my kilts are garments first and foremost, I have another perspective as well...

When the great 20th century composer Frank Zappa died in the mid nineties, I found myself listening to a local radio station's tribute to him- a broadcast of one of his concerts including all the between songs patter. During one such break you could clearly hear an off stage fan say in a dripping-with-sarcasm voice, "Nice costume, Frank!" Without missing a beat Frank shot back, "Don't kid yourself, WE'RE ALL WEARING COSTUMES HERE TONITE." For some time after, this became my byline. Everywhere I went, I saw people in costumes. Every one of them. Jeans and a T-shirt? Hey, nice costume man!

Today marks the three month anniversary of my giving up trousers. (Well, I still work in trousers, but I wouldn't do to a kilt what I do to my work pants, which is to get them filthy every day.) Last night at my usual Sunday evening haunt, a neighbourhood bistro I wore my usual garment: a kilt. Was it a costume? You bet! Two tone brogues, argyle socks, a Black Stewart Sportkilt, an argyle vest over a Dress Stewart shirt and I topped it off with a Royal Stewart bonnet. If anyone asked, I said I was a fractured movie title, "The Clash of the Tartans!"