I've been giving a lot of thought lately as to why I'm so interested in kilts and Scottish culture in general, aside from the fact that place my ancestral roots there. I fully realize that heritage is reason enough for my interest but even still, knowing me there has to be another reason more core to myself and my personal philosophy.

The other day I came across an article where the author deconstructed Terry Zwigoff’s 2001 film Ghost World using Marxist thought and to a larger extent Situationist theory. The basis of Situationism was familiar to me but I enjoyed the new context placed within the film.

Today as I was reading various threads on here on X Marks concerning the history of the kilt and its place in modern culture the article sprang to mind again and I made a connection which answered my question of why I take such an active interest in wearing the kilt.

Kilting is, for me, given my geographical and cultural location of Utah in the United States, a subversive act designed to challenge the status quo. Wearing a kilt in a sea of p@nt$ sets me apart from the rest of society in a manner more authentic and significant than people who claim their individuality through expensive, inaccessible or rare but still mass-marketed avenues. My kilt provides me with a sense of authentic individuality based not only on the uniqueness of the garment but also on the genuine intellectual, cultural and historical interest I invest in it.

As a preface let me state in no uncertain terms that the wording used here about “dead” commodities and things no longer being produced should be taken within the context of the original article and not misconstrued with regards to the tartan industry today. In making my point it is enough, I hope, to clarify that p@nt$ vastly outnumber kilts from the global consumerist stance but that they are by no means an inferior garment (obviously!) with any less modern significance or importance to any other piece of clothing.

The following is an abridged and slightly edited version of the pertinent points made in the article which can be read in its entirety here.

To begin, there are three basic categories of goods:


Basic Necessities: Things we need to survive on a reasonable level of well being that aren’t advertised as specific commodities: food and drink, non-name-brand clothes and shoes, electricity, heat, shelter, basic forms of communication, etc etc.

Living Commodities: Mass-produced and mass-marketed commodities advertised as specific products rather than as generic goods competing for the lowest price: Nike sneakers, Britney Spears CDs, Calvin Klein jeans, Apple iPods, etc etc. They are what drive the modern consumer economy.

Dead Commodities: Things one can buy second-hand but that are no longer mass-produced or the subject of mass-marketing campaigns (though they might be advertised in specialized and niche publications such as community newspapers or fan magazines). They once were living fetishes, but are now in their retail graves: records and 8-track tapes, retro used clothes, old books and comics, unfinished antique furniture, and black-and-white televisions.

As with basic necessities, the mass media spend little or no time colonizing our inner lives to convince us to buy dead commodities for the simple reason that they’re no longer mass produced and therefore large corporations, which control mass-media advertising, make no profit from their sale.

Generally speaking, dead commodities are no longer consider “cool” or “hip” except in subcultures with limited memberships. They can be symbolically re-possessed by specific subcultures to aid in their self-definition. Yet without campaigns of mass production and mass marketing backing them up, the consumption of dead commodities does little damage to one’s individuality or authenticity. The strongest conformity they call for is to the limited subcultures mentioned above, with their obscure niche markets. Certainly a collector of such commodities can become a fetishist. Yet such a collector can also have a genuine intellectual or historical interest in the commodities they collect. The buying of dead commodities doesn’t logically imply either mass conformity or a lack of authenticity, though both depend on the buyer, the commodity itself, and the way it is used. Obsession is still obsession, even if it involves 8-tracks. Generally speaking, the older the commodity, the greater the sense of individuality it can generate: so 78 rpm records are more “individual” than cassettes, 40s fedoras than 80s white sports jackets, 20s delta blues than 70s punk rock.

The more individual the dead commodity, the less it strips its user of authenticity. For Hedonists to equate an SUV to a collection of old folk records in terms of authenticity is absurd: walk around any suburban parking lot and ask everyone getting out of their SUVs and minivans who Ewan MacColl is if you want to prove this point. Since all commodities are potentially available to all consumers, the number of people who actually consume a given commodity is directly linked (contra Hedonists like Heath and Potter) to the degree of individuality that the commodity affords its consumer. If I’m the only person who treasures commodity X, then by definition I am very individual. And if I have good reasons for treasuring X, and am sincere, then I can also be seen as authentic (at least in this regard).

Dead commodities have a history, while living commodities exist in an eternal present. Commodity fetishism in its purest form applies to the buying of living commodities. Thus the consumption of mass-marketed living commodities does the greatest damage to any sense of personal authenticity.


There’s much more to be said but this is long enough as it is. In any case, in reading this and making the connection to modern kilting with an historical context I realize that the kilt is, at least in the States and I’m sure to a certain degree in the UK as well, a badge of genuine individuality as well as an instrument of refusing the alienation endemic in our modern society which stems from mass-produced, disposable and in the end culturally insignificant consumer goods and replacing it with a connection to hundreds of years of tradition and rich culture. That in itself is inherently subversive to a consumer culture which stresses the here-and-now above all else.