Ugly Pajamas

After a careful analysis, I have come to the conclusion that I have ugly pajamas.  Just this morning, I caught a glimpse of myself in my gray striped Nautica nightwear, and it wasn't pretty. I looked like a convict.  Studying my nightie drawer, I gave the contents an objective grade. Failure.

My Ralph Lauren number is even sadder. The print looks like a Victorian grandmother. And the T-shirts ( General Custer, Soft Kitty, and something so faded I've forgotten what it says) don't help the situation. My flannel set looks pretty tragic, too.

I remember the days when I bought matching Barbizon nightgowns and peignoirs. Embroidered, bowed, rosetted, and cute as a button, I wore the tar out of them. Then I tried to buy some more, and discovered I was outta luck. The Barbizons still on the racks were designed for older ladies and definitely not the wonderful soft cottons I'd grown to love. Polyester only, or a blend thereof.

My only requirement for sleepwear has always been cotton. Can't stand to sleep in anything else. Hence my current array of ugly pajamas. At least they're all cotton.

How I wish I had my old Barbizons. At least my Beloved doesn't give a fig.