The sounds of silence

"Listen. Do hear that?"
"I don't hear anything."
"Exactly!"

Yojimbo could probably recite a list of films that that conversation appears in, but it was my own internal dialogue tonight. (And I know most people have internal monologues, but just go with this, okay?)

What was I listening for? The sound of papers, papers scuttling all about me, surrounding me, demanding to be graded.

What did I hear? Nothing.

I am all caught up! All student work that is in my hands, whether digital or physical, has been reviewed and assessed and will be handed back tomorrow. Students are submitting and reviewing drafts tomorrow, but not ones which I need to assess. So, I can head into my end-of-week training retreat and my week-end time off with nary a sword of Damocles (or anyone else) hanging over my head. Oh, there will be some minor reading of progress reports and such to do by Monday, but nothing that can seriously be called grading with a capital Grrrr. I don't know how I did it - squeezing work in over the Valentine weekend, lucking out on interruptions on campus today, whatever - but for a few precious days, I am free and clear. I hardly know what to do with myself.

---

Let's celebrate with some fun pictures!

Here's one for Dingo:

Ain't he cute? He's even got a crocheted Right Hand of Doom - and a cigar! (Link.)

And I just love this one:

This is Thor and Loki in drag, as part of a plot to get Thor's hammer, Mjolnir, back from a giant who had hidden it. I like how Loki seems to be totally enjoying the gender-bending while Thor can barely contain himself. The ruse involves passing Thor off as Freya, willing to be the giant's bride, and, of course, hijinks ensue, at least until Thor gets his hands on Mjolnir again and smashes the place up in a gynophobic rage. Party pooper. (Link.)

The Very picture of paraskavedekatriaphilia

Otis and I just finished watching a couple episodes of Avatar: The Last Airbender. I've gone on a little bit about how much fun this animated series is; here's a little animation that shows some martial arts action - an airbender (the kid) versus an earthbender (the old guy):

Fun stuff, but the action is only secondary to the story arc that connects all the episodes and the best use of continuity outside comics. Check it out.

Here are some more images that have been floating around on the ol' desktop:

A great shot of a zeppelin over the pyramids:


Captain Easy in a kilt? Sarong? A skirt of some sort, anyway.


Here's another kilt picture, but I have no idea what is going on:


The Sci-Fi Channel has some new ads that feature old tropes from a different perspective:


This is for my own personal mad scientist, Dr. Burn:

And finally, a photo from RL: Otis's Yip-ification of our bedroom:

That's all for tonight!

[men in skirts] Blog blast #3

When winter comes to Seattle, it's time to break out my Workman's model Utilikilt. This durable garment, made of caramel duck cloth (usually known as Carhartt material) is heavy enough to keep out the coolness and dampness of the northwest rainy season. There's just one problem.


Two of the six snaps that hold the kilt closed have ripped from the fabric. The remaining four snaps are enough to keep modesty (and comfort) intact, but it gives the kilt a slightly shabby looks, with frayed holes where the bright silver buttons ought to be.

I'm thinking I might want to get this repaired, but I'm not sure how to go about it. The same thing happened to the first version of this kilt that I bought, within a week or so of wearing it, and I made a temporary and not-very-effective repair with some duct tape (on the inside), but Utilikilts replaced the kilt promptly, so I really didn't have to worry about it. Now, the kilt is out of warranty (as it were), and I'm certainly not in the mood to spring for another new one, so... what to do? Perhaps over the break I can track down a canvas fixer.

[men in kilts] Skirting the issue

Last time out, I outlined the variations of the Kilt Response, and mentioned that this phenomenon alone was not enough to put me off kilt-wearing, but that there were other considerations involved.



The first of these underlying issues for my not wearing kilts this summer was a purely practical one: my everyday kilt hasn't quite fit like it used to. I bought my first kilt, the khaki Neo-traditional, about eight years ago. With the passage of time from barely-forties to hittin' fifty, I got a little broader in the beam; to be fair, the kilt has shrunk a little as well. My size and shape has been somewhat modified by my recent exercise regimen, but the kilt still doesn't quite fit the way it once did. My dark green Neo-trad hasn't shrunk as much, but it's just a little dressier, and doesn't quite feel like everyday clothes (it looks better with boots than with sneakers). In slightly larger sizes, my maroon Spartan sport model is only suitable for extremely warm weather, which we didn't have much of this year, while the tan Workman's kilt is too heavy unless it's cool out and the grey twill Mocker is clearly too formal. These workaday concerns were a part of my switch to biking pants over my vacation.

A less tangible issue for me to deal with was over-identification as the Kilt Guy. It got to the point last year that if I failed to wear a kilt, some people were disappointed or would berate me. It was as if I had become more than just a person making an unusual wardrobe choice; I was a symbol of something else. When I put on sweatpants sometimes, it was because I felt like Glenn Ford at the end of The Sheepman, when, after fighting long and hard to force the cattle-raising community to accept his sheep flock into the landscape, he just wants to have steak instead of mutton for once.

But perhaps the biggest source of reluctance to continued kilt-wearing was my growing discontent with the materialism that they came to represent in my mind. Look at that rundown of five kilts above: that represents about $800 worth of clothes. It's ridiculous. I could get enough clothes from Value Village for that money to last me ten years; a good pair of pants might run me five bucks (I got my Carhartt's for three!). Why the heck was I committing all this money to clothing, more than I had spent since I was a police detective in the Miami Vice era, just because they were kilts? Wouldn't a true minimalist just wear whatever was cheapest, preserving resources for things that really mattered? It bothered me.

But, they're there now, hanging in the closet, so I guess wearing them isn't doing any more damage to the universe or to my soul. That's why I made the decision to wear the kilts to school once again this summer. So far, I've overheard the whispered "that guy looks cool in his kilt!" from a passing crowd of students; I was chatted up by a young fellow (proclaiming his Scots-Irish heritage) who was thrilled by the kilt (he told me it was "sick," which apparently means "really cool"); and one student asked me "What's up with your trousers?" during class introductions (I told him I wasn't wearing any and the class laughed). So, That Teacher who Wears a Kilt is back, at least for now.

[men in skirts] The state of the kilt

So, I wore a kilt the other day, for the first time in a while. It was my grey twill "Mocker" model (so named to take the piss out of "Dockers"), and I dressed it up with a tie and nice vest on the occasion of a pal's wedding in Ballard. I thought it looked pretty sharp, and so did Otis, but there was, of course, the inevitable Kilt Response at the reception.

Y'see, as much as I like wearing kilts merely as the fulfillment of a long-held fascination and because I actually find them comfortable, there is no getting around the fact that wearing a kilt is a Public Act that Makes a Statement. If Otis had worn a new or favorite dress for the wedding, she would have wanted to look good in it, but all the response she would expect would be something like "Wow, that's a great dress!" or "That sure looks good on you." I usually have no such luck when I wear a kilt to a function. Occasionally, someone will say merely "Hey, you look nice" or something like that, but almost across the board, I get some version of the Kilt Response.

The Response comes in a few varieties:

The Gay Bash Response: I actually don't get this one too often, but something about a kilt compels some people to make a (usually nasty) remark about the wearer's sexual orientation; by that I mean a comment that not only asserts homosexuality on my part but implies that it is a bad thing. I think there's a bit of the only-Nixon-could-go-to-China behind this response rarely being directed to me; for example, as a stocky, somewhat mean-looking director of security at Clark College, my kilt-wearing was met with a different response than perhaps someone with a less butch affect or position on campus would have met. Nonetheless, when it occurs, it is an unpleasant situation which impels me to assert myself into someone's face, and I'd rather avoid that. Sample: "What are you, some freakin' fag?"

The Gender Panic Response: This is offered when someone can't see an unbifurcated garment without immediately connecting it to the female sex, not realizing that gender-specific clothing is a social construct without any inherent reality and with many variations. In short, they think I'm cross-dressing. Now, cross-dressing for fun, entertainment, or politics is cool, but kilt-wearing is not cross-dressing: both the tartan kilt and the Utilikilt buy into the gender construct and are specifically designed as men's clothing. It gets a little tiring explaining this all the time. Sample: "Where are your nylons and high heels? No, I'm just kidding - nice skirt."

The "It's an Ethnic Thing" Response: Because kilts are most prominently associated with Scottish culture, and because being seen to "embrace diversity" is important to certain folks, I often get this response from well-meaning people who are trying to find a convenient box in which to put my kilt. Ignoring the complete lack of a tartan, the presumption is made that I am a Scot celebrating my heritage. Now, there's nothing wrong with being Scottish, but I'm not, so I either have to lie and say I am, or truthfully say that I am not and then deal with the confusion and loss on the other person's part as their carefully built pigeon-hole collapses. Sample: "That's such a nice - what do you call it -- kilt, right? Do you play the bagpipes?"

The "I'm as Hip as You" Response: Some people recognize the Utilikilt as a modern male garment, associate it with hipness and coolness, and want to share some of that perceived cachet by being "in on it" with the wearer. These people embrace my Making a Statement and make comments that associate themselves with it, not realizing that the very act of drawing attention to coolness diminishes it. Sample: "That's a Utilikilt, right? I think it's great that you wear whatever you want. I mean, who says men can't wear skirts?"

The Faux Utiliklan Response: Occasionally, I will run into another Utilikilt-wearer; usually all we do is nod and smile a little (although I did get knuckle props from a fellow in the Apple Store). But sometimes I run into a guy who has a Utilikilt, but isn't wearing it; in fact, someone gave it to him, he really only wore it once, and is actually too nervous or insecure to do it again, but still wants to be considered in the club. So, he goes on and on about it, without really saying much. Sample: "Well, y'know, you can't wear it every day, but they are sure are comfortable, right?"

The "What-do-you-wear-under-it" Response: Since one of the most common clichés associated with tartan kilts is the ribald truism that Scotsmen don't wear anything underneath, many people consider this topic an appropriate conversation starter. Occasionally, it comes across as playful and clever; more often, it is just crude and awkward, especially when proffered by drunken academics at a literature conference. Sample: "So, it is true what they say? Hmmmm?" (wink-wink, nudge-nudge)

Think of your favorite article of clothing: a pair of jeans, sweat pants, a jacket, whatever. Now imagine that if every time you wore it, you found yourself in a conversation stemming from one of these types of response. It changes the simple act of getting dressed into one fraught with consequence. It can wear a body out.

Of course, I exaggerate a little. Like most people, I move in pretty much the same circles most of the time. My friends don't even notice my kilts anymore (not even when I get a new one!), and even the students at school get over it after a few days, since I'm such a part of the scene there. But anyplace where I don't have an official position, or where I'll be meeting a significant number of new people, the likelihood of one of the Responses becomes greater and greater.

So, what to do? I like wearing the kilts, for a number of reasons, but I'm tired of justifying my clothing choices to strangers. I thought that Utilikilts were gaining enough in popularity that the novelty would wear off, but after a peak a season or two ago, I'm actually seeing fewer on the street than before. It looks like wearing a kilt will remain a Public Act that Makes a Statement for a while longer. And although the Utilikilts organization embraces this role with a vigorous militancy and I've never been averse to expressing myself, I'm getting just a bit weary of making this particular statement.

(I won't tell you which Responses I got at the reception.)

Next time: Some more reasons for indecision.

[men in skirts] Kilt-wearin' - a personal history

Not to drop into the maudlin sentimentality of The Sound of Music, but I guess that we all have some favorite things that stick with us from childhood. I’m talking about the things that we are drawn to, as artifacts or images or playthings, which eventually become totemic or symbolic or just habitual. For me, there have a been a few that stick out and have endured. Motorcycle sidecars. Deep-sea divers. Sawed-off shotguns. Airships and autogyros.

And kilts.

I don’t recall having any kilted toy soldiers as a boy, but I would have loved some. I do remember some old movies - Gunga Din and The Devil’s Brigade among them - in which kilted soldiers made for dramatic images. I had an inspirational story of Robert the Bruce in some collection that I read and re-read, and generally encountered kilts in popular culture about as much as the next kid in the sixties. Nevertheless, although I have no Scots ancestry at all, I resonated with kilts and liked the look and their unconventionality. I can remember deciding long ago that I wanted to obtain a kilt for myself someday.

Back in the day, this would have meant getting some sort of tartan kit, either a dress version - with the short black jacket and bow tie, sort of like a tuxedo - or a more casual outfit, usually with a cable-knit turtleneck. Formals shops often rented these out for weddings, or they could be purchased through specialty dealers, but they were awfully expensive. Over they years, I always managed to have better things to do with my money, so although I did get a necktie with the official Washington State tartan about twenty-five years ago, I never did get a highland kilt, and never even wore one for the first twenty years of my adult life.

Then, around the close of the last century, I ran across Utilikilts. This art-project-turned-enterprise, based in Seattle, made up-to-date, not-tartan, almost-affordable kilts, suitable for wearing in everyday life, not just at the Highland Games. Of course I had to get one - and I did. I think I picked up my khaki neo-traditional kilt at their Interbay store in Spring 2000, and wore it to The Folklife Festival and later to a party I attended while I was in town. It was great - I was finally wearing a kilt, and it looked good and felt good. It being Seattle, of course I was met with much coolness in both public venues to which I wore it.

I wasn’t so confident that the reception would be the same back in Vancouver, Washington, where I was living at the time, and I didn’t wear the kilt much at all for a few years, and certainly not at work. When I did break it out, though, it was big time. The first public occasion was my appearance as class speaker at the graduation ceremony for Leadership Clark County, a conservative, business-based community service program. Just a few months later, I wore the kilt as part of my dress uniform for my last day at work as Director of Security for Clark College. Besides these two occasions, though, I was mostly found in pants or shorts.

In Fall of 2002, I left Vancouver for a late-life transition to graduate school, and brought both my kilts with me (I had acquired an olive drab neo-trad along with the original khaki). Notwithstanding its nature as a free-thinking institute of higher education, EWU is still in the heart of Eastern Washington, and things looked dicey for unconventional types there. The kilts mostly stayed in the closet.

Upon my return to Seattle in Fall 2003, I began wearing and acquiring kilts regularly, though still not at work. More and more often, when going out for an evening or relaxing on the weekend, I began choosing the kilt over pants. I stopped replacing my pants when they wore out, and acquired three more Utilikilts of different weights and fabrics. I knew that a threshold had been crossed when more than one new friend mentioned after knowing me a year or so that they had never seen me in pants. I think it was in summer of 2005 that I started wearing kilts to teach class, and about Fall 2005 when I moved almost exclusively to kilts.

In Seattle, that is. This progressive town is pretty accepting of this sort of thing, but I moderated my choices when traveling to Spokane or back east.

That was the state of affairs until recently. I pretty much wore kilts all the time, became know as the “guy in the kilt,” named my first blog for kilts, and accepted the role of full-time representative of alternative men’s fashion every time I went out. Then, this summer, after spring quarter ended, I just pretty much stopped cold. I have been wearing what I call Thai shorts or biking shorts - mid-calf length trousers - just about every day.

Why? I’m not 100% sure, but I’ll have some ideas next time.

Men in Skirts

Until this summer, I had been wearing Utilikilts almost exclusively for about two or three years. As much as it was to me merely a personal choice, I could not deny that it was also a political and social statement, one which I eventually tired of making every day. So, this summer, I hung the kilts up and began wearing Thai shorts.

I don’t know if I will go back to the kilt when I start teaching again this fall. I am known on campus as the “guy who wears the kilt,” and to judge by the infrequent times I have come to class in other attire, my kilt is now pretty much an expectation for both students and colleagues.

In any case, the subject is still prominent enough in my life that it deserves a category of its own on this blog. This category will contain articles and links related to kilts and kilt-wearing. Click here to see posts in this category.