Hugh Hefner died last week at the age of 91.
No one can claim that his longevity was due to clean living. He exploited women in his publication (Yeah, I heard about reading Playboy for the articles. Tell me another one.) and in his private life.
I cut my feminist teeth on MS magazine, hung on every word Gloria Steinem uttered, and knew all the words to Helen Reddy’s “I Am Woman.” More recently I marched in the Chicago’s Women’s Rally complete with placard and pussyhat!
I find little to admire about Hefner and his legacy, but he may have gotten the pajamas thing right. Hugh owned about a bazillion sets of satin jammies and wore them everywhere.
Retiring from full time teaching to writing with substitute teaching, tutoring, and consumer educating filling in the crevices of my day, I wavered from the wake up, get dressed, go to work schedule.
Now I find that writing, immediately after rising, works best for me. Mainlining caffeine in my snuggies, the words flow. If I slip into jeans first, I’m overly concerned with noncreative essentials like semicolons; Questions also arise about ellipsis . . . but I digress.
In the evening, it seemed illogical to change from street clothes to an intermediate type of clothing and then to pajamas. So I slip into my “relaxing” pants. (Think yoga or lounge or sleep ilk.)
I found this change in attire to be relaxing and comfortable and productive.
Thus my PJ wearing time nibbled at both ends of my street clothes timeline. At this rate, I’d soon be in pajamas all day.
That day arrived faster than I thought.
Substitute teaching on a Friday is a wild card. The anticipation of the weekend may be coupled with a special event day. The special event may be 100 Day, Hat Day, or Stuffed Animal Day. On the surface these special events appear innocuous, but you never know.
My favorite day is Jeans Day. That’s when teachers wear their favorite pair of denims. It’s education’s version of casual Fridays.
With this hope in mind, I texted several teachers and staff at the school to get the lowdown. The exchange went something like this:
Me: Is it Jeans Day tomorrow? I’m subbing.
JF: No, but it’s Pajamas Day!!!
Me: What luck! I won’t have to get dressed in the morning!
BS: Just put on a bra!
W: Good call!!! It’s also Melissa’s baby shower so there will be food.
MS: So wear stretchy jammies!
I donned yoga pants, short-sleeved top, and a polka dotted robe as well as my bra. I kept my fingers crossed for a calm Pajama Day with the first graders.
The little ones wore Tigger and Superman and Wonder Woman PJ’s. After the initial “Look what I’m wearing!” and “Can I put my slippers on now?” The class delved into their journal writing and addition calculating and book box reading without hesitation. Even a broken toilet that required a bathroom break adventure down the hall to where the big kids frequent didn’t cause alarm.
All were relaxed and comfortable and productive.
From this experience I learned that if I looked close enough, I am able to find something positive about everyone, even an exploiter like Hef.
May Hugh, the PJ King, rest (comfortably) in peace.