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Chris M Dowding

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Featured Book
L.A. Screams
by Su Boddie

Mike Sullivan is a rookie cop in late nineteenth-century Los Angeles. There are only seventy officers on the squad, and they still ride horses on patrol. The city populat..  
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Blogs by Chris M Dowding

Chaos in a kilt for Chris
8/4/2008 8:50:48 AM
Attendance at my friends' wedding in Scotland involved wearing a kilt. But I had to get it on first!
On Friday, my wife, Kerryn and I attended our friends’ wedding in Perth, Scotland. I put on a kilt for the first time in my life, with a fair bit of resistance. The groom had never worn one either (he wasn’t Scottish), and he wanted lots of support from his friends. Kerryn ambushed me a few months ago by ringing him and saying I was very excited about wearing Scotland’s national costume. Not funny, Kerryn.

I picked the gear up from a tailor in Perth and listened carefully to his instructions about how to wear it. I had one hour to get ready; a chartered bus was going to collect us at 1.00PM. I showered at our hotel, put the kilt on. My fingers struggled with all of the buckles and fastening belts - I had to reach around behind myself to fasten each item. It took me ages to tighten the kilt and add the sporran and belt.
‘What about the shirt?’ asked Kerryn.
‘That comes afterwards, as far as I know,’ I replied. I checked myself in the mirror. The tartan stripes on the kilt seemed to run diagonally, rather than vertically. I contorted my upper body again and threw myself around to pull the stripes into place. My face was streaming with sweat. ‘Phew, I think that’s the hard part done.’

It was 12:45PM. I grabbed the shirt and the jacket. As I buttoned the shirt, I could see a problem developing. It was so long that it hung over the kilt down to my thighs. Even worse, the jacket only hung to my belly button. I swore to myself - there was no way the shirt went over the outside of the kilt. I’d have to take it all off again and put the shirt on first. I jumped up and down, shaking my fists. By 12:55PM, I’d put on the shirt, and reinstated the kilt, belt and sporran. I hurriedly pulled on the jacket and then looked at the shirt in dismay. The sleeves were hanging out of the jacket arms by about 5 inches. ‘Kerryn, help!!!!’

I’m saving the rest of the story for my second book, but I can tell you that we got to the wedding and there was a fair bit of laughter at my expense.

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More Blogs by Chris M Dowding
•  Chaos in a kilt for Chris - Monday, August 04, 2008  
• Riding on the Buus - Saturday, July 05, 2008

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