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OK enough of my Jack Nicholson...

I started wearing the kilt late last year. I've always had this idea in my head that modern men's clothing was just wrong on so many levels. It is not ergonomic, not even very attractive, and doesn't scale up well to look good on "full figured men" like me.

OK as historically inaccurate as it is, I really enjoyed the movie Braveheart. And even though they had no business being in great kilts in that movie, it got me to thinking that yes this garment affords a man the freedom he needs and allows one to make a statement at the same time.

So last autumn I was invited to join some of my friends to a concert that you might consider part punk rock part electronica (i.e. loud angry music with a lot of people wearing all black). I didn't want to look like everyone else there and I didn't want to wear the boring old clothes I wear to work every day either. Aha! Great time to wear a kilt!

I had a false start with Amerikilt who gave me some bad advice on measuring myself for the kilt and I ended up having to send it back (but he was very good about refunding my money without giving me a lot of crap about it). I then found Xmarks and through Xmarks I found Rocky & Kelly @ USA Kilts and they were able to come up with something for me in time for the show.

So I showed up for the show with an ensemble that in retrospect I have regrets about. Brown worman's steel toe boots, green kilt hose, USAK Philabeg in Scottish Nat'l tartan (that kilt is still my favorite), and a black tee shirt that sings praise to the virtues of some BBQ joint in Tennessee but has the wonderful quote on the back "You have to be hung to eat at Judge Bean's" with a picture of a gallows next to it. All of my other leather bits (belt, sporran) were black. And I wore my sporran far too low.

So as badly put together as this was, the magic started pretty early on. I could overhear people talking about the kilt when I was standing in line outside to get in. When I got up to the security check, I was asked to turn out my pockets. I opened my sporran and emptied it out and he says "no, your pockets, I need to see you turn out your pockets". I said something about the only weapon I have being under the kilt and there were no pockets. This really confused him and he just waved me on in.

This was my first introduction to kilt fetishists. Though there weren't many in this crowd, and I think I lacked the confidence at that point to really work it, I did have some ... ermmmm... "incidents" with ladies that wanted to be closer to me.

That might not sound like anything to most of you, but I am an ugly guy. I mean, really, there are stillborn rhinos that look more handsome than me. The only reason I married such a beautiful woman is because of persistance. Otherwise, I'm not even on the radar when I walk into a pub. I'm just a 300 pound hairy gorilla. But not in the kilt! In the kilt, I'm someone worth meeting. It doesn't make me Prince Charming or anything, but it puts me boldly on the radar. In the last six months since taking up the kilt, I have met and danced with more beautiful ladies than in the previous 15 years (and always go home to my lovely wife).

The kilt is not the be-all end-all of male fashion for me but it has definitely earned a very prominent place in wherever this experiment leads.