Gents, gentleladies, rabbles and rabblettes, scholars and sewers:

I come not to praise this kilt, but to bury it! Wait, that's not right.

Call me "Kiltmaker." No, wait, that's not right either.

Having abused Shakespeare and Melville, I shall now switch to Dickens!

It was the best of kilts, it was the worst of kilts . . . aye, that's more like it!

Here's the precis: I ordered and received eight yards of 100 percent wool tweed through e-bay, and commenced to sewing. I did not measure anything but the apron, the rest I put together using the handy windowpane pattern that was woven into the material.

I made the apron slightly narrower, and put in an extra deep fold under the apron (EXTRA DEEP, I says).

Here's a pleat shot on the floor:


Here's an apron shot, on the floor:


Here's a shot on the innards, on the floor: (Eeew, innards on the floor!)


Yeah, it's unlined.

Here is a magnificent stud duck modeling the kilt in the backyard:


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So far, the pleats are unpressed. I was going for that "country look" as I have mentioned before. Sharp eyed readers will notice that one of the pleats is coming unsewn, so the fell is uneven. That will be attended to later.

It's right at five yards of material. The reason I'm squatting down isn't that I'm a kung fu master demonstrating the horse stance, it's to show the drape of the apron.

It's rough, and it's crude, and I sewed it myself, well, almost all. The lovely and talented Natalia (aka Mrs. Cossack) sewed in the waistband. And I have to say, having sewn this one, that I have the utmost appreciation and admiration for the REAL KILTMAKERS.

Time from start to finish? Well, it all depends. Actual cutting and sewing time took about ten or twelve hours. Wandering around cussing under my breath because I was all confusified about what to do next, that added a couple of hours.