Scotland: Unchartered Territory

The first stop on our European tour was Glasgow, Scotland.  My sister-in-law, Ben’s younger sister, got married to a true, born-and-bred Scotsman. They held the wedding in a beautiful church and reception hall, or “cathedral” and “mini castle” depending on your perspective, in downtown Glasgow.

The wedding was beautiful.  The bride was beautiful.  And, as a bridesmaid, the view from the front of the church was… perhaps “beautiful” isn’t the right word.

Most of the men in attendance wore kilts.  The Scots owned their kilts, and the Americans rented their kilts.  The Scots grew up wearing kilts to formal occasions.  They were accustomed to wearing an open-bottomed piece of clothing.  The Americans had undoubtedly crossed into unfamiliar territory.

The American men sat with their legs together for the first part of the ceremony.  But, as time went on, they got a little more comfortable in the their kilts.  They relaxed a bit.  Perhaps forgot they donned a kilt.

Slowly, the Americans' legs drifted apart, inch-by-inch.  By the time the vows rolled along, a large portion of the right side of the church showed off much more than the colors of their tartan!  Fortunately, for some of them, their sporran weighted their kilt down just enough to leave the bridesmaids guessing.

Below, Ben looked dapper in his kilt alongside his two sisters, a stunning bride and lovely bridesmaid.