Skirts and Bats!

This was written as a comment for my friend Mike's blog (michaelcepress.blogspot.com), and I thought, since it's high time for a new entry, it should find it's way here. That way I can be sure I won't forget it too... cause it's a nice story!

I bought a skirt a couple of years ago. Really simple, black, strong canvas, a type of wrap-around, fastened at the waist, very straight lines and a kind of thin-A-line silhouette. As a straight man who cherishes his masculinity, yet thinks clothes can be important, I'm used to being made to feel a bit out of place. I'm typically quite confident in my own dress sense, but sporting the skirt around my neighbourhood in Seattle brought a few more critical glances than I was used to. It was not, however, the critical eyes of passers-by that convinced me to stop wearing the skirt. My reasons were far more pragmatic. I ride a motorcycle daily, and it was the first time I came out of the battery street tunnel on Goldie wearing my skirt that Function delivered to Fashion the fatal blow it had been saving up for years. As I exited the tunnel and picked up speed my carefully-tucked skirt succumbed to physics and became un-tucked. Riding along on an early 70's, golden motorcycle wearing nothing but a t-shirt, a pair of tighties and this, very strong and masculine, skirt flapping behind me like fury, I'm sure I looked like I was being raped by a giant bat. Since then the skirt has remained carefully folded in the drawer where I lovingly placed it after riding slowly home and thanking God that the bat didn't get a wing caught in a tire.


The bike in the picture is not golden, and obviously not Goldie.