This weekend I attended Scottish Festival in Lexington, Va. Herding dogs gathered sheep on the grassy hillsides. The sun warmed the air, but with a brisk wind from time to time kept it chilly. With the weather, and the mountains surrounding us, along with the bagpipes and Scottish music playing, you could almost swear you were in Scotland.
Lovely trinkets and crafts lined the festival grounds—chimes, hand carved wood boxes, and knives and swords. I also enjoyed talking with some of the genealogists who were there. I found one of the names of my ancestors and learned that they were a Sept of the Donnachaida clan, which was huge and were mostly in the Highland area of central Scotland that I actually happen to be writing about right now. Kismet, my friends. My life is full of it.
I enjoyed all this, yes.
But mostly what I liked was this:
No. Not him particularly though he did look pretty good. But I just love men in kilts. (Not all men in kilts, of course, and there were plenty of unattractive kilt-wearing men at the festival.) But for the most part, a man who wears a kilt with confidence one sexy man.
Maybe it speaks to my ancient gene pool, a “memory” if you will of Highland warriors or some other masculine prowess, tempered by something warm underneath.
I’m not the only one who likes men in kilts. Could it be one of the many reasons for popular Scottish historical romances? And Pinterest is full of pins of men in kilts, and don’t you know, I started a men in kilts pinterest board myself. Check it out here. http://pinterest.com/lizeverly/men-in-kilts/
What do you think? What is it about men in kilts?