Now and again, but not very often, Nigel feels the want to be not quite as diminutive in stature as he is…..
….. and yesterday was one of those such occasions when his eyes fell upon a full Highland dress assemblage in the window of the charity shop on the corner of our road.
He has spoken of nothing else since he returned home. He was totally enthralled by everything about it, including the wonders of the kilt sock ribbons (??) and cuff links and a kilt pin in a real life, satin lined, presentation box.
He’s been overflowing with the thought of how splendid it must be to be garbed in a rufty tufty, lace up Jacobian shirt, where he’d probably feel like a real life lord of the laird, fair pulsating to toss any cable caber that dared to cross his path …… oh my life!
Not to mention the freedom a kilt would afford his never nether regions, though perhaps not on a windy day! And then, ……there was the sporran, oh how he’d swing it robustly with wanton and gay abandon! It was all the stuff of dreams.The little fella was, to be honest, completely overwhelmed by the adventure and romance of it all.
Thank goodness said shop was closed (problems with the till I believe), otherwise I fear we could very well be searching for a very able seamstress who is up the the task of making all the necessary alterations on a spur of the moment and not at all considered purchase! What is he like?
2 comments:
Good luck with all this, Nigel.
Quite how one could make the sporran a suitable size for Nigel is anyone's guess. Also, careful with the sgian-dubh a.k.a. the skene, or the knife, which goes down your sock.
Oh there's not much else can compare to a monkey or a man in a kilt - size, is no matter here. JantheFan p.s. what about the bagpipes too?
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