A friend of mine just stepped up with an offer I couldn't refuse, in terms of a trade for my Utilikilts credit. I worked a lot of very entertaining, but very hard hours in booths all over the bar area, getting men out of pants and into kilts.

Utilikilts has come a long way since then; they have a flagship store in Seattle now, and wholesale to select kilt vendors nation wide.

In the old days, the booths were run on a shoestring, by a staff of very few employees, and many volunteers, who did it out of love for the product. The pay? If you worked a long hard day, you'd get a kilt. and maybe a t-shirt. But we didn't do it for the pay, we did it because it was so goddamn much fun.

Part carnival barker, part sales rep; part freak show, part haberdasher, part lifestyle counselor, part pirate, part street performer. I've never accosted so many strangers, copped so many feels, been flirted with by both genders, as much as I have at fairs and fests and games, when I used to shout things like "Sir, have you considered FREEEEDOM from TROUSER TYRANNY?"

It was some of the most fun I've ever had working.

It was work though. Hell on knees and ankles; long, long hours bending, stretching, fetching, measuring. Hours roaming and passing out cards, offering what was, for most people, a first look at a concept. Because that's what the utrilikilt was; not just a garment, but a new kind of garment. We've all seen a kilt before, or a sulu, a sarong. But this wasnt exactly any of those. It was a technical object, an exaggeratedly masculine garment. A skirted garment for men without a cultural reference.

The thing with MUGs (Men's Un-bifurcated Garments), is that they mostly come from somewhere. Scotland, Indonesia, Africa, Polynesia, or even Rome. The Utiliikilt, though, comes from nowhere but Seattle, WA. It wasn't a reference to 'what we wear back home' or 'what my ancestors wore'; it was a statement on it's own. "This is what I wear," it said, for no reason other than because I want to.

That's come a long way in four or five years. Now, when I wear my Utilikilts, people don't say 'is that a kilt?' or 'nice skirt'; they say "hey, Utilikilt!" The concept is winning it's way into the culture. And I feel I've done my part for that. I own seven or eight Utilikilts; I wear them, if not daily, then at least weekly. I own no suit, no tuxedo; I wear kilts for fancy dress affairs.

On the other hand, I've stopped fighting the fight. I don't usually wear my kilts to work (they just don't suit sitting at a desk that well; ladies, you know what I mean). I don't feel I have to wear a kilt just to make a statement. I wear them because I like them, because they're flattering, and because they're comfortable.

All those fairs I worked brought me a lot of joy, some *action* (if you know what I'm sayin'), and a lot of kilts. I didn't buy most of my kilts, and I still wound up with several Utilikilts worth of credit.

Thing is, I don't really need another UK right now. I look at the lineup and can't think of anything they have, that I need.

So my hard-earned kilt fund is getting turned into another kind of kilt.

I just ordered fabric samples from my favorite Highland Kilt maker, J Higgings in Kansas City. When I get back from Seattle, I'm going to place an order for a new kilt in some variation of Red MacRae Tartan, a compliment to the one I already have in MacRae Hunting.

It'll be something like this:

Hey, sometimes a guy needs to go old-school.

The wise and incredibly hot Merrick says, of modern kilt wearers:

The type of guy who wears a kilt regularly is not only stylish and can dress himself, but is, most certainly, a pervert. I mean, I know that kinky sex and nerdiness pretty much go hand in hand, but kilt wearers are just a class of their own. For one, you've got the obvious exhibitionist factor, because if you are wearing a kilt you better expect at least one bold lady (who may or may not be inebriated) to come up and ask if you're wearing that kilt "traditionally". She might even try to peek. And as a perverted wearer of kilts, you might just let her. Or encourage it. I think this is a good time to point out that if you want to be dating the type of guy who wears a kilt, you really have to be okay with this type of behaviour. Expect it, and expect it regularly. Those perverts. And for two? Well, I'm sure most guys are familiar with the appeal of a button fly on women's jeans. Utilikilts, at least, are just a belt buckle away from a very... eye catching flourish of removal.

(I won't quote the part where she then says kilt wearers are snuggly-wuggly little bunnies, you have to get over there yourself to see that part.

I point this posting out not just because she drops my name (though sure, that's enough), but also because she does a great job of conveying the modern kilt thing, as fashion, lifestyle, and point of view.

I haven't written a lot about kilts lately; I haven't been working Utilikilts booths the last couple years, and wearing my kilt has become so ordinary in my life that it no longer seems to warrant special mention; so I like to see the female perspective on it.

Wow, that didn't take long. I listed my kilt on ebay yesterday with a 'buy it now' price and it got snapped up already.

Nice. I'm suddenly thinking, what *else* can I sell on ebay?

(kids. I wonder how much kids would get)

I have a Utilikilt for sale if anyone's interested:

42 short, black twill survival kilt. This is a $270 kilt from the shop; I've worn it maybe twice, washed it once. It's brand new in effect.

I'll take $200 for it.

This is a terrific kilt, but of all my kilts it's just the one I wind up pulling out least. Click the photo above to go look at the details, it's got a million features. Only reason I'm selling it is that I need to replace my Workman's kilt which I wear constantly, so this one's gotta go.

If you're interested and you've never worn a utilikilt, that's an actual waist size, not your jeans size. (God dammit, I can't find a way to deep-link to the UK sizing page. I gotta talk to 'em about that - if you need help, let me know).

A one minute google exercise didn't turn up a definitive origin of the phrase 'balls out'. But we all know what it means; full bore, full throttle, maximum speed, turned to 11.

So the origin isn't particularly important.

What is important is that it's how I generally do things. The usual quote goes “I have two speeds, all the way on, and all the way off.” I see speed limits as optional, and fundamentally think they're a bad idea. I don't like limits. I don't like rules. I don't do things a little bit.

I dive deep. I drink hard. I like to push it 'til it breaks, I like to go 'til it hurts.

Again though, that's not the point. That's background data. I don't drive slow. Ever. Today though, I did something I've never done before.

I was late for work. We had the big WWDC announcement, and my project was on deck. I wanted to be in the room at work when the announcement played, wanted to hear the reaction of people around me. So even more than usual, I was in a rush to get out.

I took the doors off my jeep this weekend. The top came off a couple weeks back. I like it best with the doors off; I like the hairy-edge, imminent danger feeling. The road rushing by. Air swirling around me.

I'm wearing a kilt today. Camo UK. It's pretty windy here today in northern california.

Until now, I've never done these two things together. Doors off, kilt on.

So I came roaring out of my driveway and blasted up my street to the main road, and I did it my usual way, balls out, knobby tires humming and screeching. Full blast up the street, with a wicked cross-wind.

And the phrase balls out became quite literally true. The kilt blow all the way up, all the way open.

It took a lot of careful tucking to get the kilt under control since of course, I didn't slow down. Alas, no schoolgirls were flashed, I don't pass a school on the way to work. But I tell you, it may be a sunny day, but christ on a crutch, my balls were cold when I got to work.

I'll have to think about an alternate closure system. I don't mind flashing, but indeed, I prefer to control it.

I blogged a couple weeks ago about Jen Cantwell of Sporran Nation and the skull sporran she was making me.

I just got it:

And a thing of beauty it is.

Jen is absolutely wonderful, and this sporran is incredibly well made. The strap is better quality that that of most sporrans I've seen, and the lining -- a red-purple two tone silk that's yummy enough to eat (As is Jen herself).

Thanks Jen, 'yer a fuckin' peach. I bet I sell a mess of these for you when I wear it at the Utilikilts booth.

I'll post pictures of me wearing it with the leather Utilikilt as soon as I can arrange it.

So I have this leather Utilikilt. I earned it by working a lot of shows the last couple years, and it's a thing of beauty, truly.

Only problem with it is that, unlike a regular Utilikilt, it has no pockets. This means I've gotta wear either some sort of waist pouch or a sporran.

But all the sporrans I have are intended to go with my highland kilt, and just look too damned scottish to my eye when put with a leather Utilikilt.

So I got to thinking, what I need is something more hard-core. More edgy. Studs, maybe. I was thinking about having a local leather worker make me a biker-lookin' sporran.

Then I started thinking about just buying a really plain one and decorating it, maybe a skull broach or something, maybe put some studs on it myself. I starting looking for things like that, and then it occurred to me to just google skull sporran.

And what do you know. Someone makes it already:

www.sporran-nation.co.uk

I talked to Jen, the lady who runs that shop (The sporran-maker herself), and she's making me a custom skull sporran, black on black. And better yet, we worked out a barter deal. She's an absolute sweetheart, and I can't wait to see the sporran she's working on for me.

I'm absolutely thrilled. This is the sporran I wanted. Something that's me, that's custom. The idea came to me after seeing my friend Corrine, who's all about the bat tattoos, wearing a bat-shaped sporran with her leather kilt. That was the idea I needed; not some generic highland thing, but something that says Karl Elvis.

God, I love Tony Creed's work. He's the skull ring guy.

Anyone wannna buy me a gift?

I want this Sick Azz Wallet Chain by TC. It would look awesome with my leather kilt.

Damn, that rocks.

Kilt Booth, Tattoo Show.

Executive summary -- not a match made in heaven, at least not this show. We didn't sell many kilts. I met Jack Rudy, but didn't wind up getting tattooed.

So I'm going to my first tattoo convention ever. A funny idea, considering I have tattoos older than some of the people likely to be tattooing there. Time was I kept meaning to go to these things and never got around to it, then later, I just didn't feel the call. There are better places to get tattooed, there are plenty of times you can meet cool artists.

Funnier still given that a crucial scene in my novella, Wanton, takes place at a tattoo convention.

Anyway, as noted before, I'm working the Utilikilts booth this weekend, March 5th/6th, at Central Coast Tattoo Expo. It's going to be a different scene; we're open late, I'm used to early morning to early afternoon for these deals. This one goes lunchtime to almost midnight, so I can see it's going to be some work. But it will be interesting. Utilikilts have never had a booth at a tattoo show before.

We're going to be there both days, Saturday all damned day and then sunday it looks like 10:30 to 6pm.

Half of me is totally looking forward to this. This other half would like to be sleeping the whole weekend. God knows I could use the sleep.

But I do have one goal; I'd like to get a tattoo while I'm there. I'm not sure I'll be able to do it, it depends on who's working where, who's free, who can do what I have in mind. But I want a number 13. The reason I might not be able to get it is that if I get it where I want it, on my hand, I won't be able to do that until the end of the show. I can't fit kilts all day with a fresh tattoo on my hand, I'll fuck it up. We'll see though; I might not have time, I might not hit the right artist, and I might change my mind about what/where. I just have this image in my mind that I can't shake, of the number 13 on my hand.

Not that I can't come up with other ideas. Plenty of them.

In any case, I'm hoping for some good stories about this booth.

The bad news is I may not get my penis in a book.

The good news is I'm working a kilt booth at a tattoo convention. Which should be a blast.

I'm gonna be working at the Central Coast Tattoo Expo selling Utilikilts on March 5th and 6th.

This is in Paso Robles, CA. More details to come on this, I just got word of it a few minutes ago.

I'll admit I didn't actually see much of the con part of PantheaCon. I didn't go to any seminars on "Who's Calling: Caller ID for the Gods" or "Mirror of My Soul: Relationship as a Magickal Art". I didn't go to anything called a ritual or a circle. I was too damned busy selling kilts all day, and I didn't really feel like hanging around all evening just in case something dirty happened.

Maybe if I'd know which rituals would have been most likely to turn into naked romps, I'd have stayed.

But I tell you, them pagans, they buy a lot of kilts. We sold almost twice what we expected, and that with a short staff at the booth an a shortage of larger kilt sizes.

It was a really different venue than what I'm used to working. I'm used to being outside, in a street or street-like area. I'm used to events where people are drinking. I'm used to events where we can get loud, and where we need to work to get people into our booth.

Here, we were in a small area, inside. We didn't need to be loud. We didn't get to hustle people into the booth. They came to us, often faster that we could handle them. Normally we hand out business cards and work people as they walk buy, but here, everyone knew what Utilikilts are.

It was low key, and quiet, yet we were selling kilts as fast as we could go most of Saturday.

I'd work this event again. It's fun to work close to home for once, someplace where I could get in and out without a long trip. And it was fun pretty much running the booth. I've always worked with people who are in charge until now so it was a change to have to wing stuff, make stuff up and not have anyone else to ask or tell. The guy who was supposed to be running the booth had to cancel, so we spent a lot of time figuring out what to do and how to do it.

I think we did a great job on this one.

Still, I missed the drunken kilt-inspectors. Vending isn't the same when you don't get or give some good grope.

I'm still having layout problems -- something is goofed up with my templates and I have not had time to sort it out. I've temporarily gone back to a default template without my changes while I sort out what broke.

Should be more together in a day or so.

Meanwhile, if you have a San Jose Mercury account, you can read a very shallow bit of an interview I did at PantheaCon:

Pagans work magic, turn some heads at San Jose hotel.

The bit that's actually relevant is:

...So what's with the kilts? Turner said she likes ``men in skirts,'' but they have no great religious significance.

Karl Elvis MacRae of Saratoga, a software engineer for Apple Computer, was volunteering at a kilt stand. He's not a pagan, he just likes kilts. ``Men have worn un-bifurcated garments for thousands of years,'' he said. The kilt offers freedom, especially when it's hot out.

Why not just wear shorts?

``Not as much of a breeze in shorts,'' he answered. And he sometimes wears it to work. ``You know, it's Apple.''

Today and possibly most of the weekend (we'll see about that), I will be Utilikilt-vending at PantheaCon in San Jose.

I actually, wonder of wonders, did find a reader who's going. (Come 'an give daddy a kiss, Sonja!). Not what I expected, but maybe she found me by accident via a google search.

In any case, I have no idea if this thing will be a somber, serious deal (which is what it sounds like from the web site), or if it will be more what I picture as a pagan revel. In either case, I'm always happy to sell kilts, get people out of their pants, and spread the word on kilted freedom.

I'm hoping I come home monday with interesting stories to tell. I usually, but not always, have them from kilt vending days. But I can tell you this much; I can resist anything but temptation. Temptation already got the better of me this week once, I ordered a one-of-a-kind (or very few of a kind) black Survival Kilt:

I called up Uncle Otto at the shop after seeing one of these few black Survivals in my stock for P-con, and got lucky. He had one, just one, in my size. And no more are being made in black. These are the kilts Richard Hatch wore (a little, when he wasn't butt-naked) on the Survivor all-star show with my buddy Lex. Otto got this kilt into a second day air box and I'm awaiting it's delivery as I type.

Temptation. My friend. My enemy. Don't tempt me. Don't dare me. I will. Some of you know it.

So I've got a new kilt to wear this weekend, and in a few minutes I'm going to load up my van with 300lbs of kilts, and head downtown. But first, one more cup of coffee, and where is that delivery guy?

So I walked out today to find 300+ lbs of Utilikilts on my lawn.

And I now have this song stuck in my head:

" Every day, I get up and pray to Jah
And he decreases the number of clocks by exactly one
Everybody's comin' home for lunch these days
Last night there were skinheads on my lawn"

In any case, I have the kilt stock for the Utilikilts both at PantheaCon in my garage. If anyone who actually knows me in real life wants to talk about trying on a kilt, come on over this weekend, I've got some limited stock of kilts. I'm not exactly sure WHAT I have, the inventory codes are escaping me so far, but I'll figure that out.

Hell, maybe I should set my garage up as a local south bay Utilikilts boutique. Spread the word. Spread the love. It'd get me to clean up my garage, anyway!

Looks like I'm going to be working a Utilikilts booth at an event called "PantheaCon" in San Jose this month.

And you know, I'm still trying to figure out what the hell PantheaCon is all about. If you have some idea, hip me to it.

It's a four day event; I don't yet know which days I'll be there working, I'm still figuring that out. But if you're going, talk to me, we'll meet up at some point (Though I somewhat doubt that anyone who reads my blog is going to this event. I could be wrong, but my gut tells me that's not my usual audience.)

More details as I get them.

Sunday:

• I lost count of how many penises I saw.

• We got dozens of men out of their pants.

• I fell in love with a woman who claimed not to like boys, but had a Daddy's Little Girl tattoo.

• She asked to me adjust her corset and enjoyed when I 'accidently' felt her up, over and over.

• A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence fell in love with me.

• My Kilt Inspector girlfriends showed up, but did not inspect my kilt.

• Several other people did.

• A woman asked to me twirl.

• I twirled.

• A beautiful woman said I was only her second choice for Big Bad Daddy. Which never happens.

• A beautiful swinger couple almost took me home, and I should have gone.

• ...At least with HER.

• I got a leather kilt.

Folsom Street Fair. The Utilikilts booth.

I'm working the Folsom Street Fair today.

This is the leather pride/BDSM fair, South of Market, SF. One of my favorite events to work.

Yeah, it's silly. That's part of why I like it.

Now that's not to say BDSM is silly. Far from it; while I may not dress up in leather or role-play full time, still, I'm bent in that general direction and am certainly as kinky as 98% of the people I'l meet today.

No, it's the scene that's silly, with it's 'play dress-up' mentality and it's rules and stagey vibes of 'top' and 'bottom'. Silly in a very good way, of course. But the fair is silly for lots of other reasons; the kinky and the odd and the people who just like to play dress-up all come out. We'll see people in chain mail, people in silk, corsets, as much nudity as people can get away with, we'll see leather and codpieces and people in chains and people playing out games they usually keep in the bedroom. We'll see posing and pretending, but also those who say "I can be me, here, today".

Silly. In the best possible way.

Also very titilating. I come home from this event charged up and ready to rock.

The kilt inspector girls from the my last highland games promised they'd show up; we'll see if they do. I promise, ladies, no names forgotten, but you still owe me pictures.

Thus I shall strap on my kilt, lace up my boots, and off I go north to liberate you from your pants.

I should remember, when I say "I don't feel like working the kilt booth". I should remember that I always have a great time. Always.

Screwing with people.

"You're not wearing a kilt today, sir! We can hep you with that problem - we can liberate you from those trousers!"

"This is a kilted event, sir!, Why are you not kilted?"

Or when the guy's ignoring me and his female companion is not:

"You see, she understands, Sir! She wants you in a kilt!" (I turn and speak to her) "Oh, yes, she understands all right."

"You're walking away sir! Tell me, where did my pitch go wrong?"

I could do this all day. It's like being a carnival barker, you need a good spiel, and you need to be able to think fast and do the verbal spar with people.

But then the day turned more interesting.

I should talk about the kilt thing.

But what I want to talk about is working the kilt both, so let's do a short version of 'why kilts'. Or maybe not so short, this one seems to be getting longer and longer. Either way if you're not interested in kilts, go back to google and search for some ugly pants.