Congratulations Becky! She won 49% of the votes cast in our Facebook competition, and will be blogging regularly for GoThinkBig from now on.
Becky Mount has a pretty interesting take on things. She was diagnosed with ME (Myalgic Encephalopathy) at 15 and dropped out of school for a bit, before finishing her exams and starting a course at the Open University. She'd blog for us about living with chronic illness and trying to find a job, even though you spend 95% of your time on the couch with your cats. She's also something of a pyjama expert...
The 4 Stages of Pyjamas
As someone who suffers from a chronic illness (M.E.), who works and studies from home, I have become a connisseur of pyjamas. Spending most of my time in/around bed means that I've gathered quite a collection of nap-appropriate clothing and I bet I'm not alone. It also means that I've noticed that there's an etiquette to consider; in a day and age where it's not unusual to see onesies on your TV and girls in short shorts and hoodies in the supermarket, we need to at least pretend we have standards.
Through trial and error (read: accidentally flashing the postman my boob and going to London on a train in unicorn pyjamas) I've worked out four levels of jim-jams and how to live a life of comfort without judgement.
We've all been there - you're tired/ill/drunk and it's bed time. You take off everything bar your pants (and sometimes even they go) and you opt for an oversized t-shirt that should come with a health warning. It's covered in suspicious stains and barely covers your modesty, but it will do. Right? Wrong. Admittedly I go for this choice a lot, too much in fact; it's as close to naked as you can be without having to pull all the curtains and it screams "I'm not changing for at least another 12 hours."
It serves its purpose but this get-up shouldn't really be seen by anyone else because you WILL be judged, even by your loved ones. I opened the door to the postman like this, my right boob fell right out and now I won't open the front door. Learn from my mistakes! I try not to let anyone see me in this state. Even when one of my bedfellows (two pet cats) come waddling in for a day's work I end up shooing them out of my bedroom. Keep this one as your dirty little secret.
These pyjamas - the archetype - are the kind you get every year for Christmas. They're normally a two piece, they match and the cuter the print the better. They're the kind that you look forward to getting into every winter; snug and childish and brilliant. We all have and love them yet there's still a bit of a stigma about them but hey, worse things happen at sea. Go to Tesco in Hello Kitty pyjamas: to paraphrase the internet HATERS GONNA HATE. They're just jealous.
2012 was not about the Queen and her Jubilee or the Olympics, or all that rain we had over the summer. No, it was the year of the onesie. Their meteoric rise saw everyone and their dog (or Nan, in my case) donning an all-in-one and it doesn't look like it's stopping any time soon.
Now, let's not turn into a debate about our unflattering friend - an issue so dividing it could cause a war - because they have become a pyjama staple. My onesie of choice? A Red Panda Kigu. Red pandas have inexplicably been my favourite animal since the beginning of time (they are bloody cute) and my Japanese import is something of a necessity to me - there is something so utterly wonderful about a) being dressed as an animal and b) being cocooned in what is effectively a fleece sack with buttons down the front. And now thanks to some bright young things taking part (here's looking at you, Cara Delevingne) you can get away with fancy dress all the live long day.
Arguably the holy grail of pyjamas are the kind that look like real clothes. The perfect balance between being so comfy you could fall asleep as you do your chores yet looking respectable enough to leave the house without a sidewards glance. Boring they may be - neutral coloured yoga trousers, plain (and clean!) t-shirts, hoodies that HAVE been washed in the past year - but they are worth the effort of finding.
No longer will you have to go to a doctor's appointment and be shamed by the receptionists, you CAN do your weekly shop without people tutting, anything is possible! OK, so maybe don't go out to dinner in them and I would suggest adding a bra (if necessary) to feel even more put together...hey, go crazy and brush your hair! You're indestructible AND comfy. Well done you.