Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Pajama Day

When I was younger, I was a tastemaker in cutting edge fashion!  In my head, anyway.  Much to my mothers’ dismay, I adhered to my own dress code.  A typical outfit looked like this:
1 pair - dark colored paisley mens’ boxer shorts (buttoned for modesty, please)
1 pair - black tights 
1 replica 70’s punk band concert t-shirt (i.e. The Stooges, Siouxsie & the Banshees, etc.)
1 pair - 8-hole Doc Martens.  I had the pointy-toed ones that nobody else had (except Bridget Fonda in the movie Singles.)  See?  Cutting edge!
Accessorized with Kabuki-white make-up, red lipstick, black nail polish and long purpley-red hair.

I never cared what anyone else thought of this.  I was still the same friendly approachable girl I'd always been, just with a different aesthetic.  And besides, some of my friends wore the same type of stuff, listened to the same kind of music, and had the same kind of mild contempt for the shiny people (but really, who didn't?)
While I still wear the occasional Bauhaus t-shirt *sigh* Peter Murphy still makes my heart go pitty pat*,

Make sure your volume is looooow...
I find myself far too concerned with what other people think.  I’m not sure why that is, but I’ll save that for another post at another time, because this is about Pajama Day.
After I got the kids dressed for school the other day, and went to get myself together, I decided to make a statement (at least to myself) and stay in my pajamas for the day.  I felt that I needed this exercise in a “rip the band-aid off” sort of way.  
Now, when I say ‘pajamas’ I do not mean a satin nightgown set or a pair of footies.  Actually, my pajamas consist of a random t-shirt and, on that particular day, these:
Go Red Sox!
I dropped Peyton off first, but that really only involves me driving up to the front door of the school and slowing down just enough to push her out of the car.  No bravery there.
Jack was next.  I drove to his pre-school, and along with a handful other parents, walked into school, down the hall, and to his classroom, where I too loudly proclaimed that today was my Pajama Day.  Surprisingly, Jack’s teacher said What a great idea!  Everybody should have a pajama day! 


Huh.
Later in the day, after I got the kids, we ran to the supermarket.  A few old ladies kinda gave me the stink-eye, but you know, whatever.  Everyone else?  Meh.  I went largely unnoticed until Peyton asked me why we had to go all the way back to the produce section.  I told her that I had forgotten to pick up lemons and announced, in my best ‘Bruce the Shark’ voice (you know, from Finding Nemo?) that We’re havin’ fish tonight!  
At this point in the day, I think I was just trying to make my own negative attention.
While I didn’t see anyone I really knew, I did run into a school-mom from a higher grade.  She commented on how cute my pajama pants were, and I explained my mission for the day.  She said she’d have to try something like that, and maybe, just maybe, we could influence a pajama day movement.
Maybe I’m still a little cutting edge...



4 comments:

  1. Oooh, the plaid boxers! I remember that being a fashion trend, and always with the waistband folded down, right? :)

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  2. Just found your blog.. LOVE your humor! I found this post funny because, my niece just had a pajama birthday party for her 3-year-old daughter. Everybody had to go in their pajamas -- at 2 p.m. It was great! Until we were about to walk into a restaurant after (hotdogs just didn't cut it) and realized, we're all in our PJs. The world just isn't ready for folks like us.

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  3. Hi Lori! I found that as long as your pajamas don't consist of lingerie or a zip-up one piece with feet, most people don't care. And the ones that do are probably too boring and uptight to hang with, anyway. I salute you and your niece's group pajama-ness. If anyone gives you a hard time, tell them that you are part of the movement!

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  4. So right! And I forgot about the thrift-store patent leather old-lady purse - I bought mine for 50 cents! My nana said I looked like Margaret Thatcher with that purse (if Margaret Thatcher was a vampire, I think.) What a sad day when the clasp broke! Now I'm rockin' a Coach bag, when I even bother to carry one. My, how times have changed...

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Even the shortest comment assures me that people other than my sister are reading this...

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