Do you remember the scenes in which Sally Albright (Meg Ryan) placed her restaurant order in the movie When Harry Met Sally ? (And don’t forget Jack Nicholson’s order for plain toast in Five Easy Pieces!) While I’m not at all picky about food, I do have a list of pecularities when it comes to clothes, especially nightwear–which, admittedly, stays on my body well into the day sometimes.
Whenever our kids ask Dearly Beloved for “mom gift” suggestions, sleepwear is at the top of his list. In fact, getting old mom something different to sleep in could well be a gift to HIM, he is so horrified at the things I wear to bed.
I usually find my nocturnal wardrobe on clearance racks, so I have an array of pajamas and gowns with dogs, cats, or frogs on them. One sleep shirt features highway signs. Simply reading my rear end could give one an encyclopedic knowledge of Route 66 in the 50’s.
My flannel items have been banished to the bottom of the drawer. Flannel and hot flashes are totally incompatible.
There is, too, the related issue of bathrobes. A wrap robe with a tie is not made for my body shape. I used to wear those until I looked over my shoulder into a mirror once. It looked like someone was backing a blanketed nag out of a horse trailer.
I try to find the kind of robe that zips or buttons instead. Hah! They’re either made of polyester fleece thick enough for Alaskan sleepwalkers or chenille, which is a tad better, but gets thin on the butt area in record time. I must squirm when I sit and I sit often. (Take note; “butt” and “thin” don’t appear in the same sentence around here very often.)
DB, who giveth sermons of frugality on one hand, exempteth my sleep wardrobe from any financial constraints. He suggests–no, BEGS–that I frequent lingerie departments. He’s not expecting Victoria’s Secret, just something without puppy dogs.
I lucked out this year when Pogo called from a department store before Christmas and asked for my preferences (which is why I brought up the When Harry Met Sally scene.) For someone who wears truly tasteless sleepwear, I have a long laundry list of specifications as to what I will wear.
For instance, it must be a soft fabric with no scratchy trim…must be loose but not tent-like…neither sleeveless nor long-sleeved since I run hot and cold. Neither scooped, thin-strapped, or high-necked. No interfacing that needs ironing to keep it from rubbing. Should not be so long as to get tangled in or so short as to cause inadvertent mooning.
Darned if the girl didn’t succeed! I’d never heard of modal, but I love it and yes, DB loves it, too! The v-neckline and short sleeves are bound with satin. Truly comfortable, even feels a little sensuous. (blush!)
Years ago, when Son was about five or six, he had his dad take him to several stores until he found exactly what he was looking for–Charlie cologne. At the time their TV commercial featured a Mary Tyler Moore-like woman. I was touched that he would think of me in an attractive, “together” mode, instead of the “muumuu mom” image I had of myself. I still have that bottle.
Mary Tyler Moore would not wear kitty cat cotton pajamas.
This year, Son gave me another gift which could represent the direction he thinks I’m heading. Perhaps I’ll let my modal nightie be a launching pad for a more “with it” me. Forget Mary Tyler Moore; Son’s latest gift will be my new inspiration. Her name is “Vixen.”