On Saturday, my laptop cord broke. It was well past the point of being successfully rigged with electrical tape, so J and I went to the Apple Store to get a new one.
On the way into the mall, we saw a girl wearing pajama pants and a really ratty sweatshirt. Her hair was gathered on top of her head in a scrunchy, and she looked like she’d either just gotten out of bed, or carefully crafted her look so it would look like she’d just gotten out of bed and was even adorable when she wasn’t trying.
“How hard is it to put on real pants?” I whispered to J, because I was feeling crabby and judgmental.
Apparently, it’s very hard, because yesterday, I spent the entire day wearing my pajama pants. I picked all the peppers from my garden, and roasted them on the grill so I could marinate and freeze them. I told myself that I’d just start the grill and then go put on pants, but then I thought that my pajama pants already smelled like grill smoke, and my jeans didn’t, so why should I bother getting dressed?
So, I spent the entire afternoon in the backyard wearing plaid flannel pajama pants, puffy slippers, and a ratty sweatshirt, with my hair in a messy, stubby ponytail. I wasn’t trying, but I wasn’t adorable either. I’m sure my immediate neighbors saw me, but since I regularly take the dog outside in my writing sweater, I figure there’s no point in putting on airs with them.
Also, on Friday, I picked the last of the viable tomatoes and pulled every freaking tomato plant out of the ground. It was so damn satisfying.
Today, I am wearing pants.
I see nothing whatsoever wrong with wearing pajama pants all day on a Sunday (provided, of course, that you don’t leave the property). I routinely see teenage girls in pajama pants walking to school when I’m on my way to work, however, and THAT I just don’t get.
I get dressed as NOT often as I can. Why make laundry when I don’t have to?
Glad you’re wearing pants today. Better than none at all. LOL!
I read in the newspaper that there is a city somewhere in China where the people always go out in silk pajamas. This is because the pajamas are made so much better than their clothes. The whole town (more likely a town than a city)wears their “best” pajamas in public.
I think there’s a certain radius around your own home where not putting on pants is acceptable. I’m not sure what that radius is, but I know it includes your garden, wherever your newspaper lands, your mailbox and any spot you take the dog to do his business. It does not, however, include the mall, regardless of how close the mall is to your house.
Hmm, first, I am sure that you were adorable. Second I have often wondered whether jammy pants in public are less modest than short shorts, or more slovenly than sweat pants or fashionably shredded jeans. The slatternly look you describe is not one I would choose for bopping around the mall(for myself or my daughter) But then, I’m a guy so what do I know?
I’m wearing pajama pants right now. I’ll probably be wearing them all day. And tomorrow I’ll wear a new pair.
~Cozy’ness~
Melissa
I find myself caring less and less what I look like as I leave the house nowadays. But I’d still never wear pajama pants and a ratty sweatshirt to the mall. When I’m at home, though, I’ll wear them all the live-long day.
Pants!