by Great Scot
More about the title of this post in a minute; however, the denizens of the Beehive have just spent the day at our regional Scottish Festival and Highland Games. This is our annual pilgrimage to give due honor to a notable ancestor of my family name, who is referred to in our house as "Uncle Bob".
Yours truly was decked out in my kilt and and various kilt accessories. On the way home, we stopped at a salad/sandwich place to eat dinner. While we were sitting and eating our dinners, a large group of 16ish girls came into to eat. Knowing that none of the girls had seen my less than typically Texan apparral, the Queen entreated that I go by these girls' table, so that the Queen and my kids could monitor their reactions. As I walked up to refill my tea, one of the girls who was standing there turned and saw me approaching and nearly choked on her own tongue. As she breathlessly returned to her table, she was heard to exclaim, "that is SO wrong".
She just doesn't get it.
Now, back to the swish. At the point in time that The Queen and I were first exploring purchasing a kilt for me, we were asking gentlemen that we met at various functions (who were wearing kilts) about their kilts, where they had bought them, how to shop for them, etc. At a Dickens Festival we attended, we met a very large gentlemen (read that a muscular Sean Connery kinda man) who was wearing a very striking Pipe Major Kilt. He advised us that we needed to purchase a heavier weight of wool for the kilt, since the lighter weight wool did not give you a good swish when you walked, and "after all, it's all about the swish".
A kilt, it is the only apparel in which a man can "swish" in a manly way!
[The Queen, all breathless from the fresh memory of her man so ruggedly arrayed, cannot refrain from interjecting that Great Scot, all kilted up, does indeed have a most captivating swish. *fans herself* If all Highland men of yore had looked half so fine in their kilts, I am convinced that Scottish cuisine might be worth eating, for surely those women would have cooked something better for such gorgeous specimens of manliness than haggis and oats.]