Pajama Love

First, there are the cotton ones—a t-shirt and bottoms—covered in pink flamingoes. Only the flamingoes have on winter hats and gloves and galoshes and it’s snowing on them. They’re soft and stretchy and have a draw string (elastic sucks) and frankly, I can relate to that bird. I lived in the tropics once and I must say—it’s easy to get used to. Now I am in Minnesota where it’s bloody freezing and snowy, but like my flamingo friend, I like it here enough to just rug up in leg warmers (some of the flamingoes on the pants have on leg warmers) and get snowed upon.

I also have a pair of very oversize red, black and white flannels that are mens’ pjs—saggy bottom and all—that I adore. They’re very old and slightly raggedy, as they are from the Curt Cobain era of chicks-who-wear-extra-big-flannel-stuff. I love them. However, I can’t wear them right now because they are at Lola’s house from the time we had a slumber party and she borrowed them and loved them so much she wore them to breakfast at French Meadow and took them home. She also still has my prom dress, but that’s another story.

Then we have summer wear: light blue shorts and tank to with sparkly sheep on them and an awesome ribbed tank with grommets that I wear with boy-shorts. Then we have a few kinds of pajamas that I won’t get into, but let me just say that American lingerie sucks. French is the way to go. There’s a fabulous French skivvies shop in Portland (6th and… oh, near the square downtown, right next to the Starbucks. Ha ha.) that has the silkiest, most beautiful accentuate-the-goods slips and lots of other lovely awesome wearables. I love my purchase from there so much I could marry it.

Tonight, however, I wear the Magic Love Shirt. The Magic Love Shirt is a raggedy old top that I bought for approximately $1 at Ross in P-town. It promptly shrunk to the Barbie size and is way too bridge-and-tunnel to wear in actual public. It is black and has the word “LOVE” across the front in (not glitter, not sequins) silver and red rhinestones. I wear it with my favorite yoga pants (hooray draw string).

Why is it magic? I only wear it when I need or want to welcome or give or be grateful for all the kinds of love around. I wore it when Melanie died. I wore it right before I met someone I dated for a long time. I wore it when I was homesick for Australia. I bought an identical one for my best friend who lives in NY and am so happy to see when I see her and so sad when we are apart for too long. I wear it when I need to project and open up to love and want loving things to happen, and I swear it works. Quantum physics backs me up on this, people. Seriously. Although there isn’t any kind of catastrophe at present, tonight I wear the magic Love shirt because I want to send all that out there—openness and gratitude, and perhaps a request for a new chance to give and receive it—and we shall see what it brings me.