Which Way to Tilt?

When there first was talk of bringing the Tilted Kilt restaurant to Evanston, I was happy that any business would want to come here. After all, our vacant storefronts--in addition to being an eyesore--aren’t producing the sales tax revenues this community so sorely needs: Our City has a $1.4 million budget deficit and a $111.2. million general obligation debt. I had just learned that each of the 53 Tilted Kilt restaurants nationwide averages about $2.5 million a year in revenue, and I thought that could mean a lot of sales tax money for Evanston. I knew I’d probably never step inside the Tilted Kilt’s doors anymore than I patronize Hooters, but I thought that, if they build it, others will come.

            I wasn’t prepared for the outrage at the Kilt’s possible arrival as manifested by 2,000 residents signing petitions against the sports bar’s coming to Evanston. Maybe that’s because I’ve lived here for so many years and seen so much change that very little is capable of ruffling my feathers. I can remember when Burger King first wanted to open a restaurant in Evanston.  That was in the days when Evanston—the home of the Womens’ Christian Temperance Society--was still dry; women wore sheer nylon stockings and white gloves, and Northwestern students and Evanston residents were limited to dining at tearooms, the Orrington Huddle or Cooley’s Cupboard.  Fast-food restaurants were still in their infancy, But despite the opposition to Burger King (based mainly on fears it would create litter-- which it did), permission was granted, and the King has reigned for many years at the corner of Clark and Orrington, leaving discarded paper cups and napkins in its wake.

            In those bygone days, people didn’t come to downtown Evanston for the food—they came for the shopping.  This suburb was once the mecca of North Shore retailing with people coming from near and far to shop at department stores and specialty shops.  Anchored by Marshall Field’s on the northwest corner of Sherman and Church Streets, the downtown boasted shops where one could buy silver and china (The Cellini Shop), elegant women’s shoes (Joseph’s Shoe Salon) and beautiful dresses (Bramson). There was almost nothing I couldn’t buy in Evanston for myself, my husband or my children.

            With the opening of Old Orchard Shopping Center in Skokie, Evanston retailing began to vanish.  A bigger, better Marshall Field’s opened its doors in Old Orchard, and other retailers clamored for space in the huge center where there was no charge for parking. But when liquor finally was allowed to be served in Evanston, restauranteurs rushed in to fill the vacant storefronts. People over 21 once again flocked to downtown Evanston, this time to belly up to bars on several downtown blocks until the wee small hours of the morning.

            An additional reason for my lack of outrage at the coming of the Tilted Kilt was the fact that a relative had worked as a hostess at the Tilted Kilt in Chicago.  Disliking any type of uniform, she originally had balked at wearing the restaurant’s uniform—knee-high socks, kilted shorts and tight-fitting white blouse--but she took the job anyway. She assured me that the customers didn’t behave any differently at the Kilt than at other restaurants where she has worked, both in the Chicago area and in Miami. And various male members of my family also reassured me that men come to the Kilt the way they do to all other sports bars--to eat the food, watch sports on TV and look at pretty girls. 

            I sympathize with Mayor Tisdahl’s decision to refuse the Tilted Kilt’s request for a liquor license and with her statement that “...the proposed licensee’s establishment does not comply with recognized Evanston community standards.”  I know what those community standards used to be, but looking out of my condo window during the few warm days we’ve had and gazing at Evanston’s teen-aged girls dressed in the shortest possible shorts and the tightest possible tops, I wonder just what those community standards are today. It’s a good thing I wasn’t sitting in Mayor Tiscdahl’s chair and having to vote on a liquor license for the Tilted Kilt. Torn between my memories of the old Evanston and the reality of the new Evanston, I’d probably have voted “Undecided”.