Last night I decided to honour the Scottish half of my heritage and celebrate Burns Night. In Paris? Mais oui! Scotland and France have a long history, so it's not too surprising that there are places where this celebration takes place - in fact, I'm sure that there were many more authentic versions of the event around, but because I happened to be walking past the Highlander pub, that's where I went.
It was fairly low-key, but the Scottish dancing was hilarious. In case you've never done it, Scottish dancing is enormous fun - however, if you have too many people doing it in a very small space after too many drinks? Total chaos. Hee!
I was also amazed to see how many Frenchmen were there in full Scots regalia - seriously, from the collar all the way down to the shoes, every detail correct. Very impressive. I tell you, a man generally doubles his hotness quotient by wearing a kilt and if you add a little French savoir-faire to the combo? Niiiice. Anyway, I discovered that they absolutely love it - I was chatting to a group of them and not one was wearing a rental, every single one of them actually owned this garb. It cracks me up to think of their wardrobes - perfectly cut suits, perfectly tailored shirts, aaaaand....a kilt. Well, pourquoi pas?
I also overheard a Scottish chap talking about how a friend of his owns a kilt shop in Paris and that he's been in business for six years and is doing well - now I can see how such a thing could be possible!
And in the spirit of all things Scottish, here's a vehicle I photographed on my street a few weeks ago; I have been saving it for the appropriate moment...