So This Is What It Means To Be Kilted?

[Dreadbelly]

Life is different now.

Being kilted has changed much in my life. For one, my health problem is clearing up rapidly.

But there are other things, things more subtle and profound.

Wearing a kilt changes how people deal with you. Before, when I wore pants, it was always "Hey you." Or "You there" Now, it's "Sir." Or "Mister." I am not sure if I like being called Sir... Makes me feel old. People talk to me differently now. Now, when I go into some places that I have gone many times, I don't get asked to move along and quit loitering as I always have. I have actually been asked to stick around and add to the atmosphere. I get free drinks. (Coffee when I go to Port City Java) People treat me a lot better.

Bad part is, I have always gone to most of these places. And it's like they have never noticed me till now. Now when I take my scruffy dreadlocked self to the museum, I seem a lot more welcomed kilted then I ever did in troosers. Before, even before dreadlocks, I was always scowled at when I went into the museum. I am a poor person. And I dress accordingly. My closet looks like a Goodwill exploded. And when I went to the museum, folk would look down their nose at me. Tell me not to get things dirty. I was made to feel very unwelcome. And now kilted, and these are people who know me, and how I used to be, they treat me as if I was trendy and arty, and they want me to stick around as long as possible because, in a sense, I have become part of the artwork. Having a kilt has bought me a ticket into some stuck up social club that I want no part of. I love the museum, hate the curators. The hyprocrisy makes me feel sick to my stomach.

You know what? It's upsetting. Unsettling. Makes me feel cheap. Know what I mean? This has been the one sour turn off to my kilted experience. It is not enough to make me stop wearing a kilt, far from that, but it has really opened my eyes to how people treat other people, and what is viewed as a deciding factor in determining what makes that person acceptable to the viewer's clique. With out me even having a say in the issue, wearing a kilt has made me into something I am not, at least in other's eyes.

Wearing a kilt has made me a somebody, where before, I was a mostly unwanted nobody. And that just doesn't sit well with me.

The dreadlocks help a bit though. On some folk, you can actually see the panicked conflict in their faces, as their heads bob up and down, looking from kilt to dreadlocks, back and forth, busy trying to catagorize me into some mental filing cabinet folder that they don't seem to have created yet. It's actually quite amusing... Then again I was schooled in psychology and I have a sick sense of humour so others probably wont think it's funny. But I do.

Who would have thought so simple a garmet could cause such a complex reaction, and bring about such a cascading series of events that cause change?

[Dreadbelly]

Life is different now.

Being kilted has changed much in my life. For one, my health problem is clearing up rapidly.

But there are other things, things more subtle and profound.

Wearing a kilt changes how people deal with you. Before, when I wore pants, it was always "Hey you." Or "You there" Now, it's "Sir." Or "Mister." I am not sure if I like being called Sir... Makes me feel old. People talk to me differently now. Now, when I go into some places that I have gone many times, I don't get asked to move along and quit loitering as I always have. I have actually been asked to stick around and add to the atmosphere. I get free drinks. (Coffee when I go to Port City Java) People treat me a lot better.

Bad part is, I have always gone to most of these places. And it's like they have never noticed me till now. Now when I take my scruffy dreadlocked self to the museum, I seem a lot more welcomed kilted then I ever did in troosers. Before, even before dreadlocks, I was always scowled at when I went into the museum. I am a poor person. And I dress accordingly. My closet looks like a Goodwill exploded. And when I went to the museum, folk would look down their nose at me. Tell me not to get things dirty. I was made to feel very unwelcome. And now kilted, and these are people who know me, and how I used to be, they treat me as if I was trendy and arty, and they want me to stick around as long as possible because, in a sense, I have become part of the artwork. Having a kilt has bought me a ticket into some stuck up social club that I want no part of. I love the museum, hate the curators. The hyprocrisy makes me feel sick to my stomach.

You know what? It's upsetting. Unsettling. Makes me feel cheap. Know what I mean? This has been the one sour turn off to my kilted experience. It is not enough to make me stop wearing a kilt, far from that, but it has really opened my eyes to how people treat other people, and what is viewed as a deciding factor in determining what makes that person acceptable to the viewer's clique. With out me even having a say in the issue, wearing a kilt has made me into something I am not, at least in other's eyes.

Wearing a kilt has made me a somebody, where before, I was a mostly unwanted nobody. And that just doesn't sit well with me.

The dreadlocks help a bit though. On some folk, you can actually see the panicked conflict in their faces, as their heads bob up and down, looking from kilt to dreadlocks, back and forth, busy trying to catagorize me into some mental filing cabinet folder that they don't seem to have created yet. It's actually quite amusing... Then again I was schooled in psychology and I have a sick sense of humour so others probably wont think it's funny. But I do.

Who would have thought so simple a garmet could cause such a complex reaction, and bring about such a cascading series of events that cause change?

[Dreadbelly]

Life is different now.

Being kilted has changed much in my life. For one, my health problem is clearing up rapidly.

But there are other things, things more subtle and profound.

Wearing a kilt changes how people deal with you. Before, when I wore pants, it was always "Hey you." Or "You there" Now, it's "Sir." Or "Mister." I am not sure if I like being called Sir... Makes me feel old. People talk to me differently now. Now, when I go into some places that I have gone many times, I don't get asked to move along and quit loitering as I always have. I have actually been asked to stick around and add to the atmosphere. I get free drinks. (Coffee when I go to Port City Java) People treat me a lot better.

Bad part is, I have always gone to most of these places. And it's like they have never noticed me till now. Now when I take my scruffy dreadlocked self to the museum, I seem a lot more welcomed kilted then I ever did in troosers. Before, even before dreadlocks, I was always scowled at when I went into the museum. I am a poor person. And I dress accordingly. My closet looks like a Goodwill exploded. And when I went to the museum, folk would look down their nose at me. Tell me not to get things dirty. I was made to feel very unwelcome. And now kilted, and these are people who know me, and how I used to be, they treat me as if I was trendy and arty, and they want me to stick around as long as possible because, in a sense, I have become part of the artwork. Having a kilt has bought me a ticket into some stuck up social club that I want no part of. I love the museum, hate the curators. The hyprocrisy makes me feel sick to my stomach.

You know what? It's upsetting. Unsettling. Makes me feel cheap. Know what I mean? This has been the one sour turn off to my kilted experience. It is not enough to make me stop wearing a kilt, far from that, but it has really opened my eyes to how people treat other people, and what is viewed as a deciding factor in determining what makes that person acceptable to the viewer's clique. With out me even having a say in the issue, wearing a kilt has made me into something I am not, at least in other's eyes.

Wearing a kilt has made me a somebody, where before, I was a mostly unwanted nobody. And that just doesn't sit well with me.

The dreadlocks help a bit though. On some folk, you can actually see the panicked conflict in their faces, as their heads bob up and down, looking from kilt to dreadlocks, back and forth, busy trying to catagorize me into some mental filing cabinet folder that they don't seem to have created yet. It's actually quite amusing... Then again I was schooled in psychology and I have a sick sense of humour so others probably wont think it's funny. But I do.

Who would have thought so simple a garmet could cause such a complex reaction, and bring about such a cascading series of events that cause change?

[Blu (Ontario)]

I wouldn't call that a glowing report. A kilt is only going to be a positive experience if you want it to be. What were your expectations?

[Blu (Ontario)]

I wouldn't call that a glowing report. A kilt is only going to be a positive experience if you want it to be. What were your expectations?

[Blu (Ontario)]

I wouldn't call that a glowing report. A kilt is only going to be a positive experience if you want it to be. What were your expectations?

[Dreadbelly]

It was an honest observation. This forum is about all aspects of kilted life.

This is just a view point.

Aside from this observation, I have nothing but good things to say.

I have become painfully aware that kilts change your life.

I would have to say that change is 90% good.

[Dreadbelly]

It was an honest observation. This forum is about all aspects of kilted life.

This is just a view point.

Aside from this observation, I have nothing but good things to say.

I have become painfully aware that kilts change your life.

I would have to say that change is 90% good.

[Dreadbelly]

It was an honest observation. This forum is about all aspects of kilted life.

This is just a view point.

Aside from this observation, I have nothing but good things to say.

I have become painfully aware that kilts change your life.

I would have to say that change is 90% good.

[Blu (Ontario)]

...I would have to say that change is 90% good.

The tone of your post just seemed a bit downbeat. Glad to hear I was mistaken. Kilt-on my man! 8)