The MacBitseach

I am The MacBitseach of Clan MacBitseach. (MacBitseach is Irish Gaelic for son of a bitch.)
This blog is about wearing, making, and some of the social aspects of kilts. I started wearing and making kilts in 2003.
If you have any questions, comments, or ideas, email me at macbitseach@gmail.com

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Location: Vancouver, B.C., Canada

Saturday, August 27, 2005

A wrinkle in fashion

There is always a lot of talk about casual kilt wear and formal kilt wear. Most people see kilt wearing as one or the other.
Traditionalists would have us wear 8 yard, knife pleated, wool kilts with all the required accessories for various events.
Casual kilt wearers toss out the rule book and wear whatever the hell they please.

I've found that no matter which of the above two choices a kilt wearer chooses, he is almost always fanatical about keeping wrinkles from his pleats.

I can see a traditionalist trying to look his best, trying to keep wrinkles from his kilt as a man in a nice suit would try to keep wrinkles from his trousers. His kilt and accessories are a statement and are often worn as a costume or uniform to a formal function. (Some of you think I dislike this. I don't object to kilts as costumes. I object to kilts as ONLY costumes. They were garments first.)
I get a chuckle out of guys wearing casual kilts, whether synthetic fabric or wool, even a cargo kilt, that are obsessed with the neatness of their pleats. These kilts are often the kilt version of a pair of jeans. People gardening in a kilt, or hiking, or playing frisbee golf, shouldn't worry about the state of their pleats. It takes away from what they are doing and lessens the fun they're having.

So let your pleats get messy once in a while. Have at least one kilt that is your slob kilt. Wear it when you're doing the laundry, or having a quick one at the local pub, or going to a football game. Let people see that kilts are more than just a perfectly pleated garment, that you can be truly casual in a kilt and not always fretting about your pleats. People see you trying to sit just right, so as not to wrinkle your pleats. They see you doing the sweep or the slide and think that kilts must be a hassle to wear.

It really is a garment! Plop yer ass in a chair and never mind the state of the pleats. Life is not neat. Wrinkles are a part of life.
If I'm doing a formal event, I'll iron my best wool kilt and try to stay neat. If I'm going casual to a fun event, the last thing I want to worry about is how I look.
If this 'I must look perfect in my kilt' trend keeps up, will we soon hear guys asking their wives, "Does this kilt make my ass look big?"

Monday, August 22, 2005

Speechless

I was out and about today, running errands.
Standing at a corner, waiting for a light to change, a man in his fifties walked by with a man who looked to be his father. The father was small, wore a plaid shirt, and seemed to be healthy at first glance.
He stopped and looked me up and down. His face, which had been unreadable, lit up and he tried several times to speak but couldn't manage better than a croaking whisper.
He pointed his arthritic hand at my Black Watch kilt and nodded his pleasure. I shook his hand gently and respectfully thanked him. He patted my hand and went on his way with his son.
I don't know why this guy stuck in my head. I get similar 'comments' every day. Maybe it was the fact that he couldn't speak that got me wondering about him. Was he in the Black Watch or did he just like the kilt being worn casually? Was he even Scottish?
I have this picture of him settling in for bed, thinking about his day, and chuckling in glee about the guy he saw wearing a kilt.
I guess I'll settle for that.

Sunday, August 07, 2005

The Gathering Kilts Night

Here's a few pics from The Gathering Kilts Night.
I was at Doolin's for 9 hours, trying to be a good host and having a lot of fun in the process. I paid for it today but I'd do it again.
That was one of the most enjoyable Kilts Night we've had. It had something for everyone who attended.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Irony

This always happens to me; a serendipitous, perhaps subconscious word or phrase is revealed to have a deeper meaning at a later date.

I once wrote a story about an ancient Inuit man Named Tok. He had a face like a fallen cake and the only words he ever spoke were, "You lie." Tok could sense any lie.
It didn't strike me until months later that Tok didn't talk.

The motto for the MacBitseach clan is Fey.
I've covered the meaning of the word before but, playing with words as I do, I found something I like.
Fe is the elemental symbol for iron. (Ferrous.) Add a y to it and the motto for the MacBitseach clan is Irony.
It fits.

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