My wife and I went to look at an apartment yesterday. Both the manager and the leasing agent fawned over my kilt the whole time. (My wife, used to this sort of thing just wore her smug "He's mine, ladies" expression.) Because my credit is a little iffy, we weren't sure we'd get the apartment. Today, however, we got a call to go in and do paperwork! I haven't got buckles on the new camo kilt yet and the tartan kilt is due for a cleaning (I can just throw it in the washer- thank goddess for polyviscose!) so I just threw on some sweats and we headed over. The disappointment that I wasn't kilted was almost palpable, but we still have our new apartment situation squared away, thanks in part to the power of the kilt!