Plaid robe, check striped flannel pants, check patterned t-shirt, check fuzzy socks with pom-poms, check |
Some take it as a sign of the end times that people now wear
pajamas in public. Other people do wear them in public, like the woman I saw in
my supermarket, wearing a union suit, hers fuzzy and with feet. (My thought:
when you get through walking all over, you are never going to get those feet
clean.)
I know someone who once told me she felt, if she went to
the supermarket in sweatpants, that she should apologize to the people who have to
see her that way. (Ah, no, in my opinion, the appropriate response here would
be: “Yeah? What you looking at?”) But I also know someone who considers regular
clothes a foreign and uncomfortable irritation in her life. She will,
immediately upon arriving home, change into ratty clothes she would never go
out in. (Too much work, in my opinion. Now you have to change every time you
want to leave the house.)
I don’t go the supermarket in my pajamas. However, I do go
in my gym clothes, which are pretty damn close.
I like to hang around in my pajamas in the morning. To
have to get up and jump into clothes – and out the door, like the jogger I saw
this morning huffing and puffing in the cold and the dark – is just wrong.
And while I realize you can buy fancy pajamas, all
matchy-matchy, made of silk and whatnot, I like my motley collection of pajama
pants and t-shirts. (And I don’t get “sexy” pajamas, or lingerie. How does
dressing like a baby doll make you feel sexy and not, say, stupid?)
When I get up, I “layer” too, adding a robe, usually, my
husband’s tartan-plaid one, and fuzzy slippers.
And life is good.
I'm with you, Charo: free-form all the way!
ReplyDelete"Comfort is everything in life" ..... somebody said that.
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