More Men Escaping the Tyranny of Pants

It’s the freedom, they say. The freedom to move, to feel the breeze, to stay cool on a hot summer day.

And all this freedom comes simply from banishing pants to the back of the closet, say the men who wear Utilikilts.

The garment -- made in Seattle by the company of the same name -- adds a twist of practicality to the traditional Celtic kilt. Made with tough fabric and accessories such as cargo pockets and a hammer loop, the garment has attracted marine biologists and construction workers, who often point to the comfort factor as their reason for donning the pleats.

About 12,000 kilts are sold each year, said Steven Villegas, the company’s founder and owner.

They’ve become a common sight around Seattle -- especially in funkier neighborhoods and at the city’s many alternative cultural events -- and are often worn with chunky black boots.

“Our society has really rigid rules in what a man can wear,” said Steve Phun Hadley, who wore a black Utilikilt to Seattle’s annual Bumbershoot Arts Festival this month.

For Hadley, who works at an arts production company, the kilt is about bending gender rules.

Wearing one means following a long line of musicians -- from punk to glam rockers -- who wore dresses and heels on stage.

But Villegas, 38, made his first Utilikilt in 1996 for a more prosaic reason: He was refurbishing a motorcycle in his garage and his pants were uncomfortable.

So he cut up and reworked his favorite pair of pants -- green military field pants -- to make a kilt.

“I just frankensteined together some fabric,” he said from his Seattle store, where kilts flapped outside in the wind.

One day he absent-mindedly wore the kilt out of the house.

“Someone said: ‘Nice kilt.’ And a girl said: ‘Nice legs.’ And an old lady said: ‘That looks good on you,’ ” Villegas recalls.

Villegas describes the men who wear the kilts as selfconfident free-thinkers.

“This person doesn’t really care what you’re thinking,” he said.

David Stockwell, a help-desk supervisor at REI, Seattle’s landmark outdoor store, occasionally wears his Utilikilt to work.

“There’s just some days when you don’t mind being the center of attention,” Stockwell said.

Co-worker Trapper Bailey said he wore his kilt because it was comfortable for hiking or doing yard work. It has pockets galore and it breathes, he said.

“It’s actually not all that comfortable to sit in a Utilikilt all day long in an office chair,” Bailey said. “I find myself having to tuck it underneath me.”

The Utilikilt is now the company uniform at Germano & Associates Inc., a firm of marine biologists who analyze a variety of sediment from freshwater to the deep sea.

“We’re the only kilted marine biologists and so people always remember us when we do a job,” said Joe Germano, the company’s president. “They’re just a wonderful marketing angle.”

The pockets hold wrenches, screwdrivers and batteries, making them practical in the field, said Germano, 54. And pants simply aren’t as fun to wear.

Cari Maciolek bought one as an anniversary gift for her husband, who works in construction. She described him as a “big kind of guy.”

“You have to be a tough guy to be able to pull it off,” Maciolek said.

Advocates of the more traditional Scottish tartan kilts are split.

Robert Laeger-Robertson, president of the Southwest Washington Scottish Highlanders Assn., likes the idea.

“It presents the functionality of a kilt and it promotes the Celtic tradition,” Laeger-Robertson said.

In Scotland, Ireland and Wales, the kilt was originally worn by men for its function -- they could unhook it and use it as a blanket when they slept outside when traveling, he said.

Traditional Celtic kilts are usually worn in the U.S. at Scottish events, such as the athletic Highlander games, and at formal events, such as weddings, he said.

Utilikilts give men a way to make the usually formal kilt into something work-oriented, he said.

But David P. Garman, president of the Scottish American Athletic Assn., based in Los Angeles, says Utilikilts miss the point of the tartan colors and patterns, which represent family history and tradition.

Despite its utilitarian beginnings, Villegas has a utopian view of his invention.

“Utilikilts represents an opportunity to make an impact on society for the better,” he said.

The company’s production is kept in the U.S. to avoid sweatshop labor and environmental concerns abroad. And, until recently, the firm gave customers the option to trade their time volunteering for nonprofits for a kilt -- which cost from $125 to $230 each.

But regardless of what the Utilikilt represents to Villegas, for many Utilikiltarians, escaping the tyranny of pants is enough.

“Enjoy your freedom,” said sales representative Justin Ellis to a customer who left the store wearing an olive Utilikilt.

And that whole what’s-under-the-kilt question?

“Underneath all these clothes I’m completely naked,” Germano said.