Pajamas Are Just Suits That Quit
I remember the days when everyone owned pants with zippers. Several pairs of them, in fact. There was tailoring, sharp creases, pleating, and pockets that didn't sag like the jowls of a bulldog. People who wore those pants had their lives in order. Those types of slacks inferred that someone also owned a watch that wasn't digital and they actually ironed things on purpose . And then the world changed. Remote work became the pinnacle. Lockdowns had us in our domiciles so long that elastic waistbands started seducing us with their promises of all-day comfort. Before we could say "pass the banana bread," society began it descent into the abyss of fuzzy footwear and comfy fabrics. Sure, those materials could catch on fire if you stand too close to the TV, but they are comfortable. And for a time, I embraced the new pajama overlords. The Slow Surrender It began innocently enough. A Wednesday morning Zoom call and a sudden realization that nobody could see my legs. That m...