G'day from The Sunshine State!

**WillowEstate** · 6th May 13, 08:45 AM

Hi Everyone,
I'm new to this forum, here is a brief explanation of my journey to kilt wearing - I'll claim regularly, if not frequently - about once a week.

The story begins before I was born! During WW II, my father was in military hospital, several hundred miles away from home. His main connection with the outside world was through a volunteer hospital visitor. My parents-to-be established a very close friendship with the visitor and her husband, a friendship which was maintained after my father left hospital.

In due course, my mother asked the hospital visitor's husband, a very proud Scot, if he would mind if she gave his given name to me? He said he would be honoured and so that is how I gained my name, Savile (always abbreviated to Sav), which is, I believe, of Scottish/French descent. I'm told it means "The Willow Estate" and while I can't rationalize that, it seems appropriate for a screen name!

The story skips forward about 8 years to when the hospital visitor and her husband had passed away. I received one of those legendary letters from a solicitor, asking me to contact them, "when I may learn something to my advantage". In fact, the kindly couple had left me a small legacy and my namesake's treasured kilt. It was a military MacKenzie in excellent condition but way too big for me at the time.

It hung in my closet for some 30 years, until a business event caused me to dig it out. I worked for a company that participated in large technical conferences, 300-500 delegates from over most of Europe. One of the problems was locating speakers in the breaks for follow up questions, not least because almost all the male speakers wore similar dark suits, the "uniform" of the day! At one such conference, a young lady speaker wore a smartly tailored bright yellow suit and, consequently, was very easy to locate after her presentation.

The "little grey cells" got to work and I remembered the kilt hanging in my closet. Remarkably, by then, it was an almost perfect fit. After clearing it with my boss, I donned it for the next conference. Magic - easily located by interested parties and, after some initial apprehension, it seemed very comfortable and completely natural (I had taken the precaution of learning to manage 8 yards of heavy woollen tartan before the conference!).

And so, my kilt became my regular attire for future conferences and more frequently, after I left the corporate world and became an independent consultant. I like to think my benefactor would have been proud.

We retired to Australia some years ago and now, the kilt and a lighter one, more suited to the climate, have become my regular choice on days I'm not involved in gardening, maintenance and other such mucky activities. It certainly sparks conversation out and about. Life's very good!

So that's my tale, thanks for reading. I'm very glad I discovered the joys of the kilt.