A friend recently posed the idea that how you dress (or want to dress) for bed is a huge part of a personal character. The argument is that considering pajamas are clothing designed for the sake of sleeping, what we choose to wear to bed is perhaps the sartorial equivalent of the strange things we do alone in our home, like talking to ourselves or watching television upside down.
I wear a variation of the same thing to bed every night: leggings and an old long-sleeved rugby polo, shorts and an oversized oxford, or plain white t-shirt plus some form of bottoms. What I want to wear to bed are matching sets by Eberjay, Olivia von Halle, J.Crew and Sleepy Jones. I’d have two sets for every day of the week (one cold weather version, one hot), and I would never, ever think to wear my Team Building Exercise ’99 tee because I wouldn’t have one. I do own a pair of “nice pajamas.” But I never wear them. Instead, I save them, along with that Diptyque candle that I’ve yet to burn and the monogrammed stationary set that I haven’t used.
So what does this say about my character? That I’m casual by nature but strive to be more refined, even when no one else — save for a friend or significant other — is around to see? But also that I’m also sort of a hoarder, unable to use the “special” things I buy and instead leave them untouched like items in a museum…
What about the people who wear nothing to bed? Are they free spirits? What about those who wear slinky nighties? Or the people who wear a shirt and underwear but no pants, or an ex-boyfriend’s sweatshirt, or something with holes or something with stains, or sweatpants emblazoned with their alma mater?
What about Marilyn Monroe and how, when asked this very question she claimed, “Chanel No. 5”?
If it’s true that you can gain insight into a person’s character based off what they wear to bed (and also what they want to wear to bed), then what do you wear to bed, what do you want to wear to bed, and what does all of that say about you?
Dare me to say “bed” one more time?
Image shot by Tim Walker