Wednesday, October 21, 2009

This is a Pajama Town

This is a Pajama town, and we might as well admit it. In fact, we might as well appreciate it, heck, celebrate it, and all that other warm fuzzy stuff. Now what constitutes pajamas might vary from person to person, with seasonal shifts, personality differences, and so on. For example tonight I am donning as pajamas my down jacket, my winter hat, wool stockings with wool socks over them and, well, pajamas... all for lack of an official heating system in my current living quarters. In fact, I'm so ready to roll in this outfit I don't see any reason why not to. And the fact is, nobody really would care one way or the other if I did, and that's the point.
For years now, my choice of clothing has revolved mostly around the relentless pursuit of 'that pajama-y feeling', which I seem to want all the time. Simply put, I want comfort. I don't want waist lines that cut into my tender fat or bras that shut down my respiratory system; pant-legs that cut off my lymphatic return or inseams that scream up my hootchie, "HOW ABOUT A NICE YEAST INFECTION, HA HA HA!!!" I want comfort. I want to fill the hug-void with flannel, floppy cotton, cozy fleece and squishy slippers.

Now, if someone wants to come along and attempt to overthrow my pajama governance with tender caresses, warm full-body presses, juicy kisses and general touchy-feely goodness, they are more than welcome to try (upon approval). But its gonna be tough. Pajamas are my friend, my steady companion, my resting place,my comfort, my haven, my blanket-against-the-cold. My pajamas are always there for me, require very little maintenance, and never talk back!

Luckily, I am a pajama lover who walks among other pajama people in a pajama friendly place. Pajamas and the like are acceptable wear here in the village. Most establishments allow it, either overtly or implicitly. Even the elementary school has a pajama day. Layered, baggy fashion is not scorned here, nay! Au contraire, it is quite common. But I am suggesting that we click on the bold and italic and underscore what we take for granted: that this is pajama town, and no one will be turned away for the crime of being comfortable in their own skin, or PJ's.

Now 'Pajama Town' doesn't only refer to fashion, although that is its conceptual wellspring. Pajama town means you can do weird, beautiful stuff like paint pictures with ice skates, build wigwams and deliver bean sprouts and have vegan potlucks in revivalist churches. you can do down-home stuff like host a square dance or grow sheep and make your own yarn to darn your holy socks, gosh darn! You can build space ships from paper clips and brew donut wine from dog strangling vine and tell tall tales for amusement park babies -- you can churn the butter, and spurn the gravy.

Pajama town is a place where you can still leave notes on peoples' doors. You can pay the next time if you come up short in the stores. The librarians will lend you books on trust, and someone lives in the greenhouse, and someone else in the school bus, see...

Pajama town excels at deceleration; it takes walks and wears rubber boots and swaps clothing and watches each others' children. It's kind, forgiving, non-judgemental, old fashioned, basic, beautiful, and not always connected to the world wide web. It is unofficial, unplanned, imperfect and out of order. Pajama town is sleepy, and goes to bed early, then it sleeps late, and, takes a nap if need be. It is dog-snooze in sun-shaft and taking the hard things in life like water off a duck's back.

Pajama town is my home, and it's yours too! Its all love and charm and gooey gooey goo. It's not anti-fashionista-- if you want to dress up, that's fine. There are some very snappy dressers here and they're good friends of mine. The point is, take your time! Get cozy, and wear whatever's right-- for you! Cuz this is a pajama town. you might as well admit it, cuz its true.


  1. That town just got its nail hit on the head. Great analogy and makes me want to move there. Our town is not quite like that. I miss wearing pajamas without getting those 'looks' (I wear the pajamas anyway, and endure the looks). Bless you.

  2. Perhaps cousin Heather could find herself in Miami beach?