Funny, as a child in London after the War, men wore dark suits, bowlers, and carried umbrellas. Cars were black. Young boys wore grey corduroy shorts and grey airtex shirts. I think girls wore pinnafores, and we all wore sandals over our long (grey) wool socks. I didn't worry about individualism then. I don't really seek it now, more like I'm an eccentric cog that spun out of orbit along the way. The deeper question is if we truly are individual, then why do we care about the trappings (surrounding ourselves with 'dead' things) as decoration of our individuation? Feels a bit like we may have fallen out of touch with that true source of individuation, that inner light, what have you.

Haven't worn a kilt in months. It's too hot, and I gave my casual kilt to my son! Now I am wondering, like someone else recently, how to get back on the horse (or whether to get back on the horse).

Thanks for taking the time to type that all into your post. Interesting.