Have you ever been to Home Depot early in the morning and seen people in what must be pajama bottoms? I mean, who has drawstring flannel pants with cartoon characters on them for actual pants. Or things on their feet that are just too fluffy to be real shoes? I’m starting to understand that now. Especially in these Nothing Doin’ days (see recent post). Without anything specific to dress for, it is easy to slide out of bed, make coffee and just go about the day. It’s easy to look down at 1p.m. and realize: hmmmm, I’m still wearing what I slept in. And think: Should I care? Hasn’t happened in public though, except for this: more than once I have gotten dressed for the day in yoga pants and much later slid into bed in same said pants after staying up too late with Chelsea Handler or Jimmy Fallon. Next morning, slide out of bed and to my 9 a.m. Pilates class still wearing the pants. And then keep them on the rest of the day. I try to avoid repetitive cycles.
This is all kind of weird because I used to be a bit of a style maven. I’ve always seen fashion as fun and what I wear as creative expression. My bachelor’s degree is in Textiles and Clothing/Fashion Merchandising. (How I got from that to lawyering then mediating is another story. Suffice it to say that fashion merchandising was easy for me and I wanted to get out of college after changing my major three times). So in contrast to the pajama-like attire for a no-plan day, when I do get out, I’m wearing things I haven’t worn in a while – 1950’s suit jacket, over-the-knee black leather boots, flamboyant do-dads buried in the jewelry box. So much more fun than the professional drag necessary in the work world.
Anyway, gotta go now. Weekly walk with a couple friends. Yep. I’m wearing yoga pants. Not telling how long I’ve had them on.
Me:
Not me:
I always wear my formal sweats.
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