I’m not sure if I’ve said it already but when I was making 2019 resolutions last year I made an executive decision to keep them as real as possible. None of that “Eat more healthy food”, “Stop smoking”, “Win a Pulitzer” stuff. Only things I am actually capable of doing, I told myself. Just the stuff I know how to do without needing supernatural help.
Naturally, this means a lot of my 2019 resolutions would have to do more with consuming this or that than with doing this or that but, well, I said I’m keeping it real, didn’t I? I consume (though I also produce, so there’s some sort of balance) and I’m not ashamed of it. So, here’s the first consumption resolution: I am going to buy some new pyjamas this year.
The image you see above this blog post is my first leg pic ever, if they are even called this, and its focus is my favourite pair of pyjama bottoms, to go with an identical pyjama top. I love tartan as much as the next fan of tartan and I love the special pyjama fabric they are made of, the one that’s at the same time supersoft and comfy, and thick enough to use in winter. But the thing is, these pyjamas are about a decade old.
Now, I said I consume but I feel an addition needs to be made. I’m a long-term consumer of clothes and shoes. I don’t change my wardrobe every season. I don’t even change it every year. When I buy a piece of clothing or a pair of shoes, they are in for the long haul, which means I’ll only part with them when wear and tear get the better of them. This is not because I’m so noble I try to minimise my clothing waste. It’s because a) I’m stingy about clothes, b) I can’t be bothered to shop so often, and c) I buy clothes and shoes I really want to wear for a long time.
So, these pyjamas with the tartan pattern. I can’t even remember when exactly I bought them but I do remember I wore them when I was pregnant with Cat, which was more than eight years ago, so afterwards my husband had to sow up (he likes to sow stuff, I don’t so much) part of the waist to make it tighter, after the elastic band loosened from being around a sizeable belly. This sewn up patch therefore acquired a sentimental value of the lowliest kind but since it’s my sentimental value I’m keeping it, lowly or not.
Leaving sentiments aside, pyjamas are the most comfortable work clothes for someone who works from home. They are, again, soft, they are, again, warm, and as a special bonus they give you this feeling you’re not so much working as being lazy in a creative, profitable way. Seriously, sometimes when I work in my pyjamas I revel in the distinct feeling I’m a carefree aristocrat who’s doing a 1,000-word analysis of the survival prospects of Weatherford out of the goodness of her heart. That’s how great it is to work in your pyjamas.
(Aside: The author just became too distracted to continue because she browsed an online pyjama store and saw a pair of bottoms with a polar bear pattern she decided she absolutely must have right now.)
A while later
So, pyjamas are excellent to sleep in, work in, and pretty much live in. Alas, unlike diamonds, they don’t last forever. They do last quite a while if you’re careful when eating in your pyjamas, which I’m proud to report I don’t do very often. But the day comes when the traces of frequent washing and time become too obvious for comfort. The day comes when pyjamas need to be retired. It is a sad day, as sad as the start of tax season, but there is no way around it… Except one: have more pyjamas. What can I say, I am notorious among myselves for inventing the wheel at least once every year.