I think “mon” means “man”, but I don’t think “Och!” means anything.

After work today, I dropped in on the only local maker of traditional kilt of my people, the Scots. Versions of this garment were often worn while the Scots were fighting their traditional hated enemies[1]. So naturally there’s a lot of history wrapped up in the kilt.

For my wedding, I’ve opted for a modern incarnation, namely a waist-belted kilt with sporran and various accouterments, worn with a sort of waistcoat and mess jacket thing with little silver bits all over it. This is opposed to, say, a wrapped great kilt. Which, really, if you’re going to wear, you need to be carrying a claymore[2] and possibly killing an Englishman.[3]

Various conversational fragments from my visit:

“I would like a fine, fine kilt.”
“Of course ye would.”

“Aye, ye’ll be needin’ wider pleats, as ye’re a big lad.”

“I learned tae make kilts for my brigade in the army. We had a sayin’, ‘If the kilt doesnae hang right, we hang the man that made the kilt.'”

I have immediate faith and trust in this guy to make me a damn good kilt.

[1] The Scots.
[2] A big sword, as opposed to the antipersonnel mine. Though the swords could equally validly have “This end towards enemy.” written on it. Possibly in runes.
[3] Or another Scotsman. See [1].

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s