The Joy in New Pajamas

I guess it’s a sign of my advancing age that I can get excited about a pair of pajamas.  This weekend I stumbled across a sale, and purchased a pair that I normally would’ve considered too pricey.  Not that they were extravagant to begin with, but I must confess to having a cheap streak.  This I blame on my parents, particularly my mother.  But she had a good reason — she was a child of the Great Depression.  She was very young then and didn’t remember the details, only that her mother cried a lot.  For that reason, my parents never felt financially secure despite having the resources to retire on time and travel in their golden years.

So when I buy clothes, I tend to look for the most inexpensive option.  Living alone, this is easy to get away with.  (Or so I think; I have no idea what people are saying behind my back.)  And I consider myself blessed to have a best friend who is not exactly a slave to fashion.  So I blissfully wear what’s toward the bottom of fashion’s food chain.

But every once in a while, my horizons are expanded.  Like a friend who once gave me some silk shirts.  They’re the epitome of comfort — warm in winter and cool in summer — and have given me newfound respect for the Chinese… and another reason to be wary of a trade war.

Normally I wouldn’t put pajamas into the same category.  Nobody ever sees me in them (which may not be such a good thing, but it’s too late for that anyway) and I never think about them unless I hear a ripping sound and feel a draft.  That’s why this new pair is such a revelation.  They’re so soft I’ve resorted to studying labels to find their secret.  Nothing so far, and I can’t share what the labels say because I’m wearing them now.  But I’ve duly noted the brand all the way down to my reptilian brain and I’m looking forward to another sale.  Although, if there really is a Santa Claus…

A new pair of pajamas can’t exactly change your life, but it sure can get your attention.

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