Rhonda Cagle

Archive for July, 2011|Monthly archive page

Lamb Slippers In the Bread Aisle

In Uncategorized on July 22, 2011 at 1:31 pm

At the risk of stating the obvious, let me begin this little gripe session with this: Public spaces require public attire.

A decade ago, this statement would have been unnecessary; however, we now live in a world gone mad – a world where many consider it acceptable to roll directly out of bed and straight through the doors of the local market, coffee shop, and even the doctor’s office wearing whatever they had on when they went to bed the night before. I find this current trend baffling, raising many questions in my apparently over-coiffed head.

When did panda bear slippers become the favored footwear to wear to the doctor’s office?

When perusing the frozen food aisle in a bathrobe, is it necessary to wear a bra or can one go au naturel?

When did the rules of modern society change to include bedroom attire as something perfectly acceptable to wear to the library or to class at college?

Will I soon be seeing a lounge section at my local church where I can kick back in my Jesus jammies while sipping my morning cuppa? If so, my church attendance may actually increase.

Apparently I was piled up in my bed, feet ensconced in my bunny slippers, when the new rules of public dress were released to the masses. Based on a recent trip to my nearest grocery store, it was clearly ground zero for those embodying the kinder, gentler – fuzzier – guidelines for public attire. So many people show up to grocery shop in their jammies that Lorenzo has started a new version of “I Spy.” Points, in ascending numbers, are given based on spotting a person in their slippers, pajama bottoms, and pajama sets. Double points are earned if an adult is seen wearing footed pajamas. And the answer to your question is, sadly, yes, although not usually in summer weather.

Amazing, is it not?!

Call me crotchety and old-fashioned, but I find it bizarre that couch couture has suddenly made its way into the community at large. There is an entire generation that believes weekend casual means fuzzy slippers and “I need coffee!” emblazoned sleep pants as dress de rigueur for Saturday Starbucks runs. I pine for the days when it was considered daring to dash to the store in sweats and a baseball cap. And I positively wax nostalgic when I remember my mother admonishing me to change out of my play clothes and put on something nice before running to the store.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my p.j.s as much as the next person. I simply keep them in the bedroom where they belong. Now, please close the door on the way out as I want to put on my little lamb slippers. What do you think this is, the bread aisle?!

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