Changing into your kilt

[smaughazard]

Bikers know the drill: don kilt, drop jeans, enjoy the event, don jeans, drop kilt and ride away!

[Sammac]

Changed between the doors of my explorer during a snowstorm. Had about 5 inches on the ground, just loosened the laces on my hikers, put kilt on, pulled jeans down, slipped foot out of hikers,off one leg then the other. My wife laughed alot at that.

[threebanger]

Bikers know the drill: don kilt, drop jeans, enjoy the event, don jeans, drop kilt and ride away!

That's how I do it...yep, in the busy street leading to the event entrance. I've gotten some odd looks, but mostly good natured, "Way to go!" comments.

[Woodsman]

I agree that the most awkward place to change in or out of a kilt has to be in the driver's seat of your car. What could just take less than a minute standing up, takes much longer with a series of laughable contortions and bumps and bangs on the steering wheel. Once I thought I could quickly do this while stopped at a deserted intersection. I wound up getting my shorts tangled in my shoes and had to step out of the car anyway to complete the job. I was laughing thinking about how I would explain this to a policeman if one had suddenly shown up.

I now prefer the method of the young woman who changes in seconds wherever she may be without giving it a second thought.

[Coinneach]

I'm not aware of any dress codes on the highways of either of those states.
Bob

At least two people have now mentioned changing into a kilt at a border. My natural historical curiosity causes me to wonder about how this tradition originated.

For me it was a special event...I was leaving the Golden State fifty-m@#$ph years to the day I first arrived in it...and a good way to celebrate it.

[Stratherrick]

Morris

At least two people have now mentioned changing into a kilt at a border. My natural historical curiosity causes me to wonder about how this tradition originated.

Well, for me, my changing at the border just north of Berwick is symbolic of returning home to Alba. As you come 'round a long right-hander towards the border you can see the two border crossing pull-over lanes and the Saltire and St Goerge's flags on their poles. For the longest time, the English just had one flying with the Scots having put up three on much taller poles, now there's parity!

It reminds me of stories during the years when kilts were banned after the '45 'n' all that. On some of the islands, they used to have shacks near where the rowboats would take you over to the mainland. Guys would take off their kilts, which they'd have continued to wear despite the ban as, on many islands, there'd be nobody to enforce the law, and change into trousers. The reverse would happen once they were back home.

To me, it's like acknowledging to myself that I'm entering a land with different ways and customs, a setting myself apart from our southern neighbours. I don't do the same when going the other way for two reasons. Firstly, I'm nearly always travelling back to Northumberland late at night and keen to motor on for the final 45 minutes or so. Secondly, having charged up my Scotobatteries, a team of wild horses couldn't pull my kilt down!

So, folks, it's partly a ritual and partly acknowledgement of what we now count as a right, forgetting that some of our ancestors were denied the same privilege.

Slainte

Bruce