"LET them wear shorts!" went the cry. A clutch of bold young gentlemen from Isca Academy in Exeter has been widely hailed for their campaigning spirit in wearing skirts to school when denied the option of shorts in hot weather.

I say widely and widely is what I mean. The story - and the pictures of the wee lads in their short tartan kilts - made The Washington Post, the Sydney Herald and the Times of India. A video of the boys was viewed around nine million times and a tweet from a BBC reporter received more than 50,000 retweets. They featured on American news channel CNN. You can't barely buy that kind of publicity.

On the hottest day of the year - allegedly; it was brisk here in Glasgow - the boys complained they were not allowed to wear shorts. They were sweltering and wanted a breeze about their ankles to ease their perspiring brows. A teacher said, I imagine flippantly, that they might like to wear skirts.

A small handful turned out the next day in girls' uniform and by Friday around 100 had plundered their sisters' wardrobes.

Pity poor head teacher Aimee Mitchell who must have been overwhelmed with the calls from journalists eager to find out whether the protest had changed uniform policy. (For those wondering: "Shorts will be introduced as part of our school uniform next year.")

Also making international headlines were male bus drivers in the French city of Nantes who similarly wore skirts in hot weather to protest a shorts ban.

Why, then, does a story ostensibly telling us that men wear clothes generate worldwide interest? Quirky or moralistic school uniform stories always seem to gain traction: skirts too short, blouses too flimsy, outfits too distracting, uniform too expensive or should be done away with altogether.

Nothing on this scale though.

While I love a grassroots protest and am a card carrying member of the Activism Admiration Association, I can't help but feel a little underwhelmed by the young men of Isca Academy and the global response to them.

Why has their campaign received such attention? Because a boy in a skirt is an oddity, like a duck in gumboots or a dachshund driving a car.

A girl in trousers is nothing. But a boy in a skirt is brave, headline worthy. A young man willing to wear female clothing to school is deserving of coverage 12,000 miles around the world.

Wouldn't it have been something if the Isca lads were campaigning for the right to wear skirts. Just skirts. They wouldn't want that, however, because that would be daft. The point of the protest is that they have been forced into a ludicrous performance to gain attention and make their disgruntlement known.

The fact they made the effort is fabulous. The fact that female clothing was used so successfully to do it suggests there is a "normal" and an "abnormal", which in turn suggests we've not moved too far in the debate about gender roles and the tiresome corresponding segregated accoutrement - clothes, toys, activities.

Children in Scotland has this week released a report drawing attention to the victimisation of people for their sexual identity: 88 per cent of secondary teachers say young people in their school are bullied over their sexuality. To those who feel different from their peers, what does our excitement over a boy in a skirt say to them? Nothing supportive, certainly.

I hope the chaps at Isca Academy feel buoyed by their unexpected celebrity and take note of the way a quiet call for change can turn into a blasting roar. I hope they take that feeling and carry it with them into new endeavours.

Use your fame for good, boys, and let your unclad legs lead you somewhere meaningful, like the ending of stigma for your peers who feel happiest in their skirts.