After taking Cub to the dentist, we were heading for the bus stop, when an older gent stopped me and asked in a thick, Scottishe brogue, "I don't recognise the tartan. What is it?"
I told him it was Cape breton, about being a kiltmaker, wearing a kilt all the time for a year and a half, and he was delighted to hear it all. He said it was wonderful to see a kilt worn for no reason at all and that he'd wear his more often when he got back to Scotland. (He was on holiday.)