Of the many ways we could categorize a man, surely this is the most precise: one who can wear a kilt and one who cannot.
I’ve long had fantasies of wearing the Collier tartan, but a man should know his limits so the idea has never gone far. With Miska immersing herself in the Outlander series and with our conversations scheming of how to manage a Scottish walking tour, the moment has been ripe for my Gaelic visions to return. Imagine my delight, then, when I walked up to the counter at the convenience store and there behind the cash register stood a brawny man in a black t-shirt and a green and black plaid kilt. With cropped haircut and bulging, beefy arms, he appeared ready to stroll onto the green to win the Highland Games (the old world games – now televised on ESPN – where kilted men do things like tossing a cow over their shoulder for a hundred yard dash or race to clear a small forest with their teeth and bare hands).
I plopped down my credit card, watching him with a little bit of awe. “I love your kilt, man. I’ve always wanted one, but I don’t think I could pull it off.”
He grinned. “What do you mean? Of course you could.”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I have it.”
“Well, here’s what you do. You buy a Comfy Kilt, they’re made for just wearing around the house. Try it on, get the feel of it. Figure out your way to wear the plaid.”
“A Comfy Kilt?” I was intrigued, though this rugged man at the jiffy mart giving me recommendations for lounge wear was not something I could have anticipated.
“You should do it,” he insisted. “You should.”
The fact is that each of us may need to find our version of a Comfy Kilt. If there is something within us to try or to do, we can ease into it, but we must not ignore it. There’s no need to fear being foolish or to give too much concern for how our skill is undeveloped or our courage shaky. Just try it on. Take it for a spin. Dip that toe in the icy water. Maybe we’ll find our own flash of brilliance. Or maybe we’ll shake our head and say, now that was ridiculous. Either way, it simply doesn’t matter.
It seems important for me that one day I buckle up the plaid, though surely (at first, at least) in the safety of my own castle. Almost certainly, the whole experience will be laughable. But then, isn’t laughter its own kind of gift?
9 Replies to “Kilts and Courage”
Honestly what surprises me most is that you HAVENT worn a kilt. You are totally a kilt man. Do it!!! Even if it is just an at home kinda thing.
I love your surprise, Dayna
Your perspective on life is so refreshing, and your writing always gives me much to think about. When I see an entry from you in my email box, it’s the first thing I open. Thank you.
thank you, Julie. Very kind.
I love your posts! I need this kind of nudge in my life right now.
When I was 13, my parents’ friends (they were from Scotland) brought me back a genuine Scottish kilt. A word of advice for you: they are ITCHY!! They say that men aren’t supposed to wear underwear under their kilts, but I would suggest that you wear a longer brief/boxer (Calvin Klein has good cotton ones that are black) that are comfortable underneath the kilt. Otherwise, you will have an interesting problem.
from what I’ve understood, it’s rare to get the 100% wool anymore, at least not in the entry level. It’s due to cost, but I’m fine with avoiding the itchiness. And good word on the Kleins. I don’t know that I’m prepared to be fully authentic just yet.
Your blog reminded me of a store I saw in downtown Seattle last month: Utilikits. They had all kinds of kilts along with various tool belts.
Yet another reason to love Seattle