The Kilt has been
target of many a joke and ribald comment for more years than it can probably remember!But is it fair for it to be butt of so many jokes?
After all, not only is Kilt a recognised fashion item in it's own right, it's also more importantly a world recognised symbol of a country and fierce national pride contained within!
Many a soldier has shuddered and shaken in fear in centuries gone when faced with a Scottish Warrior, kilt swirling in steadfast defiance of normality, broadsword or other razor sharp lethal weapon cutting huges scythes in air as he charged.
Indeed, many fields of war were won purely by arrival of Scotsmen dressed in their tradional tartan kilts. To many, knowledge that wearer wore nothing underneath was cause enough to panic! Add to this ferocity of such a warrior and not many would stand up in front of them.
But ever since those heady days of hand to hand combat and battles fought face to face, some of mystery and folklore of Kilt remains. Ideas that you can only wear a Tartan Kilt if you are a member of that clan still abide today, wrongly in many cases.
Maybe this stops some people wearing a kilt?
Or does fear of society's view of a man effectively wearing what many still describe as a skirt also play a strong part?
But then what of those men among us who are recognised as being manliest of men? Does wearing a kilt reduce their appearance and reputation at all? Famous celebrities such as Sean Connery, Billy Connely, Ewan McGregor or Mel Gibson?
How many women did - and still would - swoon clean away to see Mel Gibson walking towards them, kilt swaying in time to his steps? I strongly suspect - most! It would not be a swoon induced by dislike or scorn neither, more of one where they're opinion has been enhanced as to character and strength of man involved.
I had great pleasure of wearing a kilt many, many years ago when I was 6. The occassion was as a Page Boy for my Uncle and Aunts wedding. White ruffled shirt, red and blue tartan kilt with sporran and shoes. only thing missing was Dirk. For some reason never suitably explained by my parents, they seemed very nervous of letting their 6 year old offspring walk around with a small dagger shoved into top of his sock! Spoilsports!
