Dressing down

On the agenda this month is people who wear pyjamas in public. It’s not big and it’s not clever. Though it’s been something that has irritated me for quite some time, it reared its ugly head recently when I was feeling particularly lazy. Wandering around the house in my own pyjamas, I was cursing the fact that I would have to exert effort to get dressed so that I could go to the Post Office. Then it occurred to me that no-one would even bat an eyelid if I didn’t bother changing.

That was all the motivation I needed to pull on a pair of jeans and a jumper.

It’s true that we’ve become an increasingly lazy society (she remarks, while eating a microwaveable dinner), but how has it gotten to the stage where we can’t even be bothered to dress ourselves? How long will it be before standards of hygiene start to slip and we can’t even summon up the strength to shower ourselves?

The pyjama is a statement. No, clearly not a fashion statement, but a statement about how little these people care about their appearance, their lives and the people around them. It says “I don’t work for a living” and “I’m just popping down to collect my dole cheque”. It screams “I stroll around all day at my leisure while you go off to work to fund my pyjama habit”.

What began in Asia as an indication of how wealthy you were (clothes just to sleep in?!) has sunken to a symbol for every unemployed woman and trouble-making teen in the western world.

And it’s only women. You never see men, the sex that considers a spray of Lynx to be a sufficient shower, going about their day in their pyjamas. No, women spend five hours putting on make-up, then five seconds pulling on pyjamas.

And let’s think of the practicalities. Sure, pyjamas keep you warm and snugly when you’re wrapped up in your council flat. But on the streets of Ireland? I mean, I’ve heard of global warming but come on!

Sadly, it’s a growing problem. Even Asia has now dubbed it “visible pollution”. I hear Still Films are currently shooting a documentary about it, called Pyjama Girls. I secretly hope it’s merely a ploy to lure all pyjama-wearers to a secret location where they will be rounded up and shepherded off to some godforsaken place. (Limerick?)

So I beg you, for the love of god, GET DRESSED! It’s not that difficult. Yes, I know the multiplication tables have you stumped, and you often have difficulty spelling your own name, but proper pants are just as easy to wear as pyjamas. And I know shoelaces are an enigma for you, but buttons shouldn’t be. And zips? Well they just go up and down.

So ladies, please, jettison the jammies. And men, I encourage you all to ridicule mercilessly any female you encounter wearing this gruesome garb in public. In the short term, you may make them sob their little hardened hearts out; in the long term, you’ll be lauded for helping to eradicate a swiftly sweeping sickness.

Let’s do it! Let’s purge the pyjama plague!