I do not pretend to be a fashion maven. I don't read trendy fashion magazines, and I don't pay retail. The two main questions when I get dressed in the morning are "Do I look fat in this?" And "Does it look like I slept in it?" I'm not a fan of the iron, though I'm pretty sure I own one...probably given to me as a gift from my mother who, on a family vacation, once ironed my gym shirt while I wasn't looking. And while I believe creasing denim jeans to be an absurd waste of time, pulling trousers out of the dryer while still hot and properly hanging them is a wholly appropriate way to put a crease in slacks.
I used to feel bad about my seemingly lazy approach to fashion, but it seems I am becoming the minority when it comes to answering the fashion question of "Does it look like I slept in it?"
Why? Because on any given trip to pretty much any store, I will run into at least one person wearing pajamas. In public.
Now, I'm going to date myself here, but let's just say I remember the 90's when any combination of tee shirt (regardless of color or design), flannel and denim was considered an outfit. I had a flannel shirt from Structure (remember that place?) that was essentially a patchwork of different flannels. My Grandfather used to kid me about not being able to afford a whole shirt so I just got pieces of lots of shirts. This was also about the time it became acceptable for girls to wear...uh...men's underwear as shorts. Yes, somewhere there is a picture of me in a UGA dormroom wearing a pair of boxers, a tank top and a flannel shirt (I was much cuter then). But there's a huge difference...I didn't go OUT in them. They made good bathing suit covers and were okay for hanging out at home, but not really appropriate for public consumption. I would, on occasion, see girls wearing boxers to class...and I can only assume they went on to be the mothers of girls who wear pajamas at Publix.
It is not just pajama pants either. Suddenly "No shirt, No shoes, No service" has an asterisk by it that deems Dearfoams acceptable footwear. Now, I admit to having a tough time distinguishing between most Uggs and slippers, but those slip on hot pink fuzzy numbers are pretty easy to spot.
"Maybe they are sick!" you say. This would be a marginally acceptable excuse if this only happened at Walgreen's after midnight and your cart is full of tissues, Vicks Vaporub and Nyquil, not at Target at 3 in the afternoon and a cart full of DVDs, make up and air fresheners. I'm always tempted to ask these gals (and the couple of men I've seen do this too) exactly what in their cart was such an emergency that they couldn't spare the thirty seconds it would have taken to put on a pair of real pants.
I've never had the nerve to ask though so I hope someone here can set me straight. But I, for one, will continue to limit pajamas to the privacy of my own home.