Saw Madge last night in Manchester. Lots of kilts in evidence - most were poor crappy poly viscose type of thang. Wore my brown leather R kilt. Our seats were at ice rink level and so you have to walk down a fair few steps to get there. Then you have to run the gauntlet of walking behind the mixing console and in front of the back grandstand. It started as a few wolf whistles then a few claps then a load of claps to a round of applause (blush). Hubby pretended he wasnt with me - the sod.
As we made our way towards the front two guys in cheapo tacky kilts came the other way and stared hard at the kilt. As I walked past I merely said 'mine's better' without looking at them. Then I heard behind me 'bitch'. (Evil grin)