When I was in graduate school, I landed a job with an international corporation. It was suit and tie and I loved it. I wasn’t just pretending to be an adult. I made it. I was the first of my high school friends to go corporate, but by the time they were in the same position, I was getting a little bothered under the collar. Suits, for some reason, are not designed to be comfortable (or maybe I just don’t know how to pick them). I was looking forward to those casual Fridays when the jacket did not need to match the pants and instead of sporting a sensible tie, the top button of my shirt could be undone.
I’m still corporate, working for a very different international corporation, and all these years later corporate dress has changed. My business attire these days is a clean pair of boots, Columbia Sportswear’s Titanium or Silver Ridge pants (with Omni-Shade) and a company logoed polo. I’m pushing the dress code limits, but no one dares complain because I’m “flying the company flag”. Going after my pants and shoes would be unpatriotic.
And yet, much as I feel I’m pushing corporate culture, it doesn’t feel like I’ve kept up. On a recent crisp early morning, the sun barely awake, I was pedaling along on my trusty bicycle, dodging squirrels and misplaced sprinklers. That’s when I saw her: a woman walking her dog in full pajama regalia — flannel pants, fuzzy slippers and a sleepy top that proudly proclaimed, “Don’t Talk to Me Before Coffee”. Classic. Functional. Confusing. When I was a kid, even contemplating going outside before washing up and putting on appropriate clothes would get me grounded for the day. Definitely confusing.
I chalked it up to a quirky start-of-day ritual. After all, who among us hasn’t shuffled out in sleepwear to grab the paper (when we still read those) or chase down a runaway trash can (before we started recycling just about everything)? Except we were in a city park, a significant distance from homes. I told myself that I get it. Sometimes the dog just has to go and formal wear is not a priority.
But then, like an oddly patterned domino effect, it kept happening. Maybe it’s just recency bias, but all of a sudden, I started noticing it.
Later that same day, I saw another pajama-clad citizen perusing the cereal aisle of my local grocery store. She was calm, composed and contemplating an assortment of wheat bran cereals, to go with the carton of almond milk in her cart. She seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact she was in Cookie Monster pants and bunny slippers. I almost suggested that maybe she should check out the Cookie Crisp cereal boxes a few feet away.
But that wasn’t the conclusion of my recency bias experience. A few days later, at the airport, boarding a commercial flight, was a woman in what could only be described as satin bedtime finery. She didn’t glance sideways. She didn’t smirk. No shame, no irony. Just a woman, a neck pillow and what appeared to be a matching pajama-travel set. She was sauntering down the jet bridge, carry-on rolling behind her, looking utterly unbothered.
We are in the era of the Pajama Culture and I don’t really know what that means. When did this sneak up on us? Somewhere between Zoom meetings and home baking, society decided that comfort supersedes convention. If we’re going to be exhausted and emotionally overdrawn, at least we can do it in flannel.
And to be fair, pajama tech has come a long way. These aren’t your grandma’s ankle-length nightgowns. We’re talking microfleece, bamboo cotton, athleisure hybrids and enough elastic waistband innovation to make the space program jealous.
There appears to be a social shift that pajamas are no longer just for sleeping. They’re for thriving. Walking the dog? PJs. Getting groceries? PJs. Brunch? You bet your bunny slippers.
Is it a quiet rebellion against the pressures of adulting? Is it the natural evolution of fashion after athleisure? Is it rebellion against Puritan upbringing? I hazard to guess that it’s a slippery slope for someone thinking, “For tonight’s gala, I’ll be wearing my finest penguin-print jammies and a tiara.” Could pajamas become formal wear? Picture the red-carpet interviews:
Reporter: “Tell us, who are you wearing tonight?”
Starlet: “Target, from the Cozy Nights collection. These cloud-print drawstring pants are machine washable and fierce.”
Honestly? A decade ago I would have called this a far-fetched fantasy, but now I’m leerily eyeing this fashion trend. We’re just one pair of monogrammed sleep pants away from full pajama diplomacy. I can see it now: late night boardroom meetings resembling a slumber party, the evening news reporters talking about the day’s game results while wearing pajamas in the style of their favorite teams, the district judge trading his court robes for a more comfortable, albeit more awkward fleece nightgown, with a frilly trim.
Are we abandoning all sense of decency? Are we embracing the “I don’t care about your opinion” attitude? Are pajamas the new formal wear? I’m not sure what’s more alarming – the fact that people are wearing pajamas in public or the fact that it’s becoming increasingly acceptable.
Is Star Wars doing this to us? Let’s be honest, every Jedi Knight looks like they just walked out of a galactic pajama party. Robes, tunics and that “I hit snooze five times” hairstyle. No wonder the galaxy’s always on the brink of collapse. You can’t fight the Sith with bedhead and bathroom slippers. And yet, somehow, it works. Maybe that’s the secret. The more comfortable you are, the stronger the Force flows. Or maybe it’s just a cautionary tale. If you give up fashion for comfort, you might end up raising a Darth.
I need to go back and reread my college history books to recall how the Roman Empire fell. Sleepwear might have been a factor.
La morte di Cesare by Vincenzo Camuccini
In a world filled with chaos, perhaps the rise of pajamas is our collective protest for peace and quiet and harmony. A silent, but comfy rebellion against belts, buttons and all things restrictive. The next time you see someone pushing a shopping cart in their bedtime best, don’t scoff. Bellbottoms have been teetering for a while. Perhaps these people are pioneers of a new lifestyle.
I should check with HR. Would pajamas with a collar count as “business casual”?