A group of girlfriends and I decided we’d wear pajamas to our annual Christmas dinner party. It’s just us, no men—and dinner will be at home—but it’s gotten me thinking… I have nothing to wear. Call me “the Princess and the Pea,” but pajamas and nightgowns bunch and wad up and make it impossible for me to sleep. Something as small as a button feels like a golfball, and any kind of waistband—elastic or ones that tie—might as well be vice grips, and leggings are too constricting.
The only way I can get to sleep is by wearing nothing at all.