Pajamas

Today I would like to address the acceptable attire that is being worn in public, the pajama pants!  It used to be that as a young lady you were never seen in this attire outside of your bedroom. I had a robe to put on when I walked into the kitchen. In my generation we had "house" slippers and house clothes, house shoes. These were to worn in the...house. We had self-prided, plus our parents were not having it! When you walked out the door, you were a representation of my mother. Not only my mother, everyone’s mom felt this way.

I grew up in The Bronx in the 1960’s and 1970’s. It was a mixed community of Jews, Italians, Blacks, Hispanic [Puerto Rican, Dominicans]. Every family had their own sense of pride. We were cleaned and “polished” before we stepped out in public. Our mothers used to congregate at the laundry-mat on Saturdays and catch up with [whatever] they talked about. The children were not too far always in

ear shot or eye sight of our mothers.

On Saturdays after household chores it was a different story. We went outside and played. We ran from the time we got outside like escaped prisoners to the street lights came on. This the only time I chose what I wanted to wear.

Today, not so much it used to be a running joke to go into THAT store and watch all kinds of outfits after hours. They would look like they rolled out of bed and fell into the store. Some patrons look like they celebrate Halloween every day of the year! The other day I was in the bank and saw…pajama pants! What? I was at the doctor’s office, more pajamas pants. No pride in oneself today. Here’s a thought, “Do they wash?” (0_o). How about the germs one treks into the home!