So, you've been invited to a party, and you can expect that you won't know but one or two people there. Not real good with connecting with people? Wear a kilt: people will come to you.

Last night I attended a holiday bash at the home of my financial advisor and his wife, an attorney, for their clients and business associates. Besides the host, Kyle, his office assistant, Mindy, and Mindy's likely future father-in-law, Jeff (a business associate of Kyle's and owner of one of my puppies, Wallis), I did not know a soul. There is no quicker way to get the attention of a roomful of strangers than to walk in wearing a spiffy kilt ensemble.

I wore the red Tewksbury tank, green hose, red flashes, black shoes, a black knit vest, a white shirt with an argyle diamond pattern in the weave, and the "seal" semi-dress sporran. One fellow quipped, "I almost wore that exact outfit tonight!"

"What a relief!," I said. "That would have been a disaster!" This gave the people flocked around the bar a good laugh.

Two gentlemen rushed up to me to ask how I acquired the kilt, so I did my best to explain the process. It turns out they were looking for an idea for their next golf "invitational," an annual golf trip they take with two other friends. One said they usually work up a logo and have it embroidered on something: a hat, shirt, bag or the like. Since they had run out of ideas, they thought the kilt was the perfect next thing. But they were worried about the price.

I suggested they look at USAKilts.com for some affordable options and tried to dissuade them from embroidering their kilts with a logo. Wouldn't they rather have a kilt pin made?

One of the fellows asked the question, which I declined to answer. The other proposed a baudy reason why he would wear underwear under a $500 garment. So much for the mystery! I demonstrated the effect of a golf swing on pleats for their consideration. They said they'd have cameras ready.

For the rest of the evening, the kilt was my entree to any conversation I wanted to crash - I just walked up to anyone looking like they were in the middle of a lull, and we had something to talk about before moving on to other topics.

By contrast, Jeff and his wife hosted a party the previous night for their youngest son and his 20-something friends. There conversation flowed as freely and rapidly as the wine and beer, but virtually no one mentioned my kilt (worn more casually with brown leathers and a denim shirt). The question I got most often was along the lines of why was I there (I am Wallis' "dad.") I got a good howl from everyone when I passed a clutch of young ladies on the floor when I went with exaggerated modesty to collect my 99-cent secret gift under the tree.

On a side note, the one consistent thing people tell me wherever I go, including last night's party, is, "You wear it well," which I think is an oddly formed compliment. I think it has more to do with my comportment than what I'm wearing. One tends to develop a certain sense of confidence when you are the odd man out in a room full of men in trousers. They said this when I spent a Halloween at the office in Renaissance-style doublet and hose. I'm tempted to wear a burlap sack one day to see if I can elicit the same response.

Cheers,
Rex.