Before I even start, just know I’m well aware that I will lose this argument. I get it, this is not where the world is going and I’m in the minority. Not to mention, it’s a free country and people can do whatever they want and I would never say they couldn’t…but I will say they shouldn’t.
I was at the movies last week – the second time in a short stretch (thanks to a gift card) – and noticed that not one, not two, but the majority of the people around me were wearing what appeared to be pajamas. Now, I know human beings value comfort above all else, but the movie theater isn’t exactly the place I’d wear my jammies on a night out. In fact, there is almost no place I will wear clothes I wear for bed out in public. Call me old fashioned, but that seems a strange, if not vulnerable decision. At very least, I like a good, strong patch of denim sitting between myself and the questionable effluvia of a public space.
That’s not me being a germophobe either. I just don’t really want the bottoms of my pant-legs, the same ones I scrape across the dirty gray-brown sledge of a gas station parking lot in winter, scraping the clean carpet of my living room.
It’s not to say I think people should wear a suit or a dress everywhere they go, but shouldn’t one make an effort? Or at least dress for the occasion? You could argue the movie theater is one thing; it’s dark, somewhat isolated and an experience one has while seated quietly (hopefully) for hours at a time.
But it doesn’t stop there.
People wear lounge clothes or outright pajamas to restaurants, malls, family gatherings, stores, sporting events, parties, churches, pumpkin patches, you name it.
Yes, it’s convenient. Yes, it’s comfortable. And sure, who are we trying to impress? But don’t you think being constantly comfortable, at every turn and in every circumstance, isn’t something human beings should get used to?
Additionally, I’m someone who enjoys experiences. When I can swing it, I’ll go out of my way to have an interesting experience. An expensive steak at a nice restaurant or a stroll through an art museum…not something I would (or could) do every day, but I welcome the opportunity to do it. To me, those experiences are special. I’m not sure things can be special if everything is the same thing. If you behave the same way in every environment, how do you distinguish one thing from the next?
If you wear what you wear to bed or on a lazy Sunday on the couch, scrolling through social media, to the movie theater or department store or grandma’s house for Christmas dinner, how is that event any different than any other event? What does that say to fellow customers or movie-goers or grandma? Does it say, “I can’t be bothered – much more than I already am – to treat coming to see you differently than I treat dripping melted ice cream onto my old sweatshirt while watching The Office for the 100th time?”
I would argue it does say that. It’s the same comfortable sameness as the thing before. It’s like a big, cozy recliner, something you sink into in the comfort and quiet and familiarity of your own home. Wouldn’t it be strange to have a chair like that in a theater or at church or at McDonald’s or in the car or in a funeral parlor? I think it would be. There is a time and place for everything. Jammies, a blanket, fuzzy, cozy socks and big fluffy, ridiculous slippers are wonderful. At home, where they belong.
-Michael Williamson is a reporter for the Journal-Tribune.