“A Highlander Doesn’t Need Underwear.”

It usually happens after a few drinks at the customary Scotch tasting. Every year at Old Town Alexandria’s Scottish Christmas Walk, when the city’s streets are teeming with Scots in skirts, someone asks, “Are you really naked under that thing?”

This year the folks who set the world standard for Highland Dress, the Scottish Tartans Authority, ruined all the fun. They instructed Scots to don undies, calling the practice of going bare beneath the plaid “offensive.”

Now hear this, ye ol’ party poopers! We Scots (I’m proud to say I can claim to be a decent part Scottish) will not stand for any softening of our image. I don’t want my son to grow up in a world where kilts come complete with matching plaid cashmere briefs.

You can imagine how thrilled I was to see one very tough Scotsman quoted in a Washington Post article (http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/12/04/AR2010120403256.html) as saying, “A man’s a man. A Highlander doesn’t need underwear. If we did wear underwear it would be made of, like, twigs.”

Thenk ye uncoly (that’s how we Scots say, “right on”)!