JAN MOIR: Prince William has sworn off kilts which are so beloved by his father – but won’t he reconsider?

Beat the muffled drum, command the bagpipers to skirl their saddest lament. A report that Prince William hates the kilt and will not wear one even when he ascends the throne has cast gloom in the glens and ire in the shires of Scotland.

What is his problem? Many consider Highland dress to be a thing of beauty, guaranteed to turn even the most unpromising milksop into a bonny broth of a boy. However, this belief is clearly not shared by the Prince of Wales.

After being traumatised by being forced into one as a child, William has apparently carved out a kilt–free future for himself. He is a kilt denier, he is anti–kilt, he is so Just Stop Kilts that he is considering gluing his shortbread fingers to his Trossachs in protest.

For William and the kilt it is going to be Lochaber no more. Balmoral no more. Braemar Games no more. Not this summer or the next, nor for a thousand Scottish summers hence. Not even when he becomes king and has to perform kingly duties in Scotland where he will, in fact, be the King of Scotland.

And I just don’t know what my fellow Scots are going to think about that.

Since becoming Prince of Wales, William has already inherited a loaded quiver of Scottish titles, including Duke of Rothesay, Earl of Carrick, Baron of Renfrew, Lord of the Isles and Prince & Great Steward of Scotland.

How can he undertake these positions and not the sartorial traditions that go with them?

His non–kilt position is certainly going to blow the minds of the more fervent SNP supporters, who will be furious and insulted that Prince William doesn’t want to wear a kilt, alongside being furious and insulted because they believe he has no right to wear one in the first place.

His antipathy would be easy to understand if William had been just another little English rich boy with nothing in his southern counties, prep school, cream bun, blazer-wearing young life to prepare him for kilt-dom, but that is not the case. He grew up marinated in ‘tartanalia’. 

Not only did he go to St Andrews University — a kilt–rich area deep in kilt country — his grandfather, father, uncles and assorted serving royal equerries all regularly wore kilts, too.

Indeed, his father took to the kilt like an otter takes to the peat burn, slipping into its knife pleat folds like he was coming home. Only this weekend he was raising a wee dram of whisky in his Prince Charles Edward Stewart tartan at the Mey Highland Games.

After all, King Charles is the kind of man who appreciates craftsmanship and worships traditional skills; none of the glory of the worsted wool, the buckled leather straps and sporrans, the hand-knitted socks or the carved horn buttons is lost on him. 

Also, Charles has just a dash more personal style and sartorial flair than William, whose off duty leisure wear suggests a lovably bland, dad-dancing dud, right down to his regulation chinos and button-down blue shirts.

Surely William must realise that costume and regalia is a major part of his ceremonial role?

King Charles (pictured) appreciates craftsmanship and worships traditional skills, and is happy to don a kilt when the occasion requires

Kilts have a proud history that dates back to the 16th century, writes JAN MOIR.  Kilt + sporran, macgregorandmacduff.co.uk; socks, cordings.co.uk; shoes, berwickshoes.com. 

He has certainly trundled about in the billowing Robes of the Garter often enough, which means he not only understands the value of theatre, but also what it feels like to wear a pair of theatre curtains.

And he has form in the costume department. In the past he has worn velvet hats with pluming feathers and caps adorned with leeks. In 2019 he wore a traditional sherwani, a knee-length button up coat, on an official visit to Pakistan. 

In Japan he wore a happi outfit while taking part in a sake barrel-breaking ceremony. On another trip he even wore a jinbaori complete with a kabuto samurai warrior helmet.

‘I’m ready for action,’ he joked.

In addition, William has regularly worn a top hat to Ascot, and surely nothing looks more ridiculous than that?

Given all this, you have to wonder what his excuse might be for eschewing something as comely as the kilt, not to mention its proud history that stretches back to the 16th century.

He must have his reasons. They’d better be good. But in the meantime, can I take this opportunity to urge him to think again? For the truth is that Prince William, despite his reluctance, would look wonderful in a kilt. Completely fabulous, in fact.

Consider the evidence. He’s fit, he’s tall and he’s got strong, long, polo playing legs. He’s got the mandatory pair of big, hairy knees without which no kilt wearing is complete. His shoulders don’t sag. His hips don’t lie. No one can deny that he has all-round serious sporran potential.

So please bonny Prince William, don’t suffer from kilt guilt or accept defeat by pleat.

The truth is that you were born to wear a kilt by destiny and by luck, so by God, don’t let us down now.