It is one of those days when I, personally, wouldn’t get out of pajamas and on days like these, I praise the thin, spider web thin, idea that went into the universe and transformed the pj’s into a trend. Better said, a cover up for all us that love pajamas and can’t abstain from wearing it into the streets even. In fact, why the fuck not? When you go to bed, usually, you want to feel the comfiest – unless you are Victoria Beckham and you only sleep naked beside your man, David; or, you know, any other human being who happens to just feel best (and free) naked – so you put pajamas on.

Fluffy cloud, warm bed, soft sheet, coconut scent, smooth pillow, chillout music, relaxed mind, wide spread legs (hey) and arms, eyes closed, dreams take over, best vibes.

As running naked on the streets is not really an option, no matter the fashion trends, the next best is wearing pajamas. And all the things enumerated above that come along with it. Exactly! Inspired by the louche loungewear of the ’20s and Coco Chanel, this one is here to stay. Yay!

It is, also, one of the days to post “Fuck it” on Instagram and then get away from the phone. But you know the drill, “one more scroll down and I’m done”. Lucky me and my fingers. Me for getting my mood up past seeing a post of Leandra Medine and my fingers for typing as we speak. We’re all into writing here.

Leandra, of manrepeller, is my equivalent of putting pajamas on and all the things enumerated above that come along with it. I, sometimes, tend to close everything from laptop to phone and think that I must be coming from another planet or something, but then Leandra pops up and I’m back on track. It is my reality check.

Just as pajamas are. Almost everyone looks human in pj’s. And I bet everyone – I hope! – gets out of the clothes (worn on the planet Earth) into the pajamas and feels free again. On the planet each and every one of us chooses to inhabit.

There are a couple of us who choose pajamas all the time.

Hey, Tudor, this is, in part, because of you, too, asking me earlier today at the coffee shop whether I was wearing one or not. I wasn’t.

But have you ever worn real pajamas, your going-to-bed pajamas anywhere? You did nooot? Oh, the joy! It was a late Saturday evening and I had to go pick my partner-in-kissing from the airport. My cover up, back then, was the harsh winter that made me wear Uggs and a floor length puffy jacket. Over the pj’s I had so cozily potato couched before. Oh.

This is me posting at 10 on a Saturday evening before going dancing, not carrying about the whole “you should be posting at this and that hour”. It must be the pajamas I am about to wear to the club and all the things enumerated above that come along with it.

The little things.

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