On a sunny day, kilted. Rain? Kilted. During what can truthfully be called a mild blizzard, I wore a kilt and it snowed on my ass... I say my ass not as a slang expression for myself... the gusty winds blew up my pleats and it lierally snowed on my ass.
I found it funny.
There was a feeling that pants would diminish my kilt wearing... that I would somehow be lessened by wearing them.
Then of course, the divorce, the closing of my store to raise my son, and going to work in construction, all put me back in pants.
My motto was always, "Kilts are garments, not costumes!"
A decade later and I still believe that. If I feel like wearing pants, I'll wear them. If I feel like wearing shorts, I'll wear them. The same goes for kilts.
It's a garment, but not quite like any other male garment because some guys don't seem able to wear them. They don't have the courage to be different, even at the expense of their own comfort.
So, you might see me on the street and wonder why I'm wearing jeans and my Dayton Black Beauty cowboy boots, or shorts and sneakers, and wonder why I'm not kilted.
I probably just didn't feel like it.