THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, April 23, 1995 TAG: 9504200043
SECTION: REAL LIFE PAGE: K1 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: HE SAID, SHE SAID
SOURCE: KERRY DOUGHERTY & DAVE ADDIS
LENGTH: Long : 103 lines
KERRY SAYS:
I have a secret passion, Dave. I love men in kilts.
I think tartans look smashing on guys. Wrapped in a kilt, your average reserved American man suddenly feels the need to drink whisky, dance, sing, tell amusing stories, recite poetry and stay up late.
Trust me on this.
Last weekend my husband and I went to see ``Rob Roy,'' that new film about the legendary 18th century Scotsman. Liam Neeson is a kilt-lover's dream come true.
There is an unforgettable love scene, filmed high on a Scottish hilltop with Neeson reclining against an ancient rock formation and Jessica Lange, who plays his wife, Mary, at his feet. The background music is pipes and a relentless, thumping bodhran, which sends chills down my Celtic spine anyway. When Lange begins caressing Neeson's bare thighs under his kilt, well, it's positively erotic.
When the house lights went up, the sense of disappointment was almost palpable as women looked at their partners and instead of seeing Neeson and his band of windblown MacGregors in kilts, saw a roomful of American men in their Saturday evening uniform: khaki pants and madras shirts.
Dave, do you think that if men realized how attractive they would look, how wonderful they would feel, how entertaining the would become, men might begin wearing kilts?
My husband, for one, looks great in a kilt.
He wore one several years ago when we were invited to a Robert Burns evening and the invitation read ``Black Tie or Highland.''
He picked Highland.
We borrowed a kilt and a how-to booklet on Highland dress. On the night of the party my husband shut himself in the bedroom and, after much grunting and groaning and trying to figure out where the pin went, emerged - sporran hanging just right, dirk in his sock, and kilt pinned perfectly - looking better than any guy could in the world's most expensively tailored tuxedo.
Steve said he felt silly and tried to duck the baby sitter as we left the house. Then he kind of skulked out the back door so the neighbors wouldn't spot him wearing a skirt. We needed gas and he pushed me out at the Shell station - Steve balked at pumping gas in kilt with the local motorheads looking on.
But once we arrived at the Bobbie Burns fest and the other male guests were also dressed in tartans, I could see a transformation.
Maybe it was the haggis, copious amounts of Scotch whisky, or the absence of underwear, but by the end of the night my husband - and all the other men - were in high spirits.
I have to say, when he donned his business suit Monday morning my husband looked downright ordinary.
Let's face it, men's business attire is dull. For what it's worth, I think kilts would offer men more opportunity for showing they have a sense of fashion - not to mention their legs. And they might be surprised by the reaction they arouse in their women.
DAVE SAYS:
Be careful what you wish for, Kerry.
The last time men's fashion was revolutionized by a movie, every Holiday Inn lounge in America was overrun by guys in polyester leisure suits pretending to be John Travolta in ``Saturday Night Fever.''
It's been nearly 20 years and we still haven't stamped that one out. Every now and again you see some weiner in a pair of flammable pants, too tight across the butt and too flared at the ankles, accented by gold chain dangling in chest hairs exposed by a shirt unbuttoned to the navel.
Are you sure you want to run the same risk with men in kilts?
You ought to pay heed to a little piece of verse by Bobbie Burns, the Scottish poet you were celebrating the night Steve made his debut in a kilt.
Burns wrote:
``Oh wad some power the giftie gee us
To see oursels as other see us!
Which, roughly translated, means: Men have no ability to understand just how stupid they are capable of looking.
I'm sure Steve looked great in a kilt. Heck, I'm one-fourth Scottish - clan Gordon, to be exact - and wouldn't mind trying one on myself, given the right circumstances. But trust me, Kerry, you really don't want this to be the next fashion trend to sweep America.
It would start out OK, with men who can afford to do so taking the time and spending the money to wear a kilt and all its accoutrements correctly, at the proper time and in the proper place.
Then the WalMart factor would kick in: Cheap copies would be made available to a lot of dim-bulbs who think all they need to do is slip into a Scottish skirt and gorgeous women will be running hands up and down their tartaned thighs, just like in the movie.
Next thing you know, the camera panning the crowd at a Mets game will lock onto the horrifying spectacle of a bunch of guys from the Bronx wearing kilts with ball caps, tube socks and Budweiser tank-tops.
If you think I'm exaggerating, just remember all those guys who started wearing weathered fedoras when the Indiana Jones movies were popular. They thought they'd look bold, mysterious, adventuresome. Most of them looked more Delaware Dweeb than Indiana Jones.
You really don't want me, our editor and the guys back in sports flitting around the office in kilts. Trust me, it would destroy any breathless memory you hold of Liam Neeson's knees.
The movies are fantasy, Kerry. That's why they keep the lights low. MEMO: Kerry Dougherty can be reached at 446-2302. Dave Addis can be reached at
446-2588, and via e-mail at addis(at)infi.net. by CNB