Pajama Jeans!

In an effort to achieve new levels of schlubbery, I decided to order Pajama Jeans. Pajama Jeans are a product sold via an infomercial, or maybe it's just a commercial because it's shorter than the old Ronco half-hour spots. Now, either the ad doesn't run where I live, and/or it doesn't run on the shows I watch (high-brow as they are), and/or it does run but I always fast-forward through it. So I didn't find out about Pajama Jeans until somebody put up the ad on Facebook, at which point I watched it and only had one thought:

I have to have those.

I mean, is it really convenient for me to wear jeans all day and then have to waste 30 seconds changing into my pajamas around 4 p.m. when I decide my day is over? Hellz no, not when you could have the style of jeans and the comfort of pajamas all in one garment.

(You have to imagine my old, terribly inconvenient life would be depicted in black and white, with me doing a lot of unnecessary sweating, as indicated by a dramatic brow-wiping.)

But seriously, I thought maybe pajama jeans would solve two main problems I have with jeans, which are (1) low-rised-ness, and (2) the muffin top.

Regarding Item (1), it seems like your options these days are the unflatteringly high-waisted "mom jeans," or else showing some crack. According to my mom, you can solve the crack-showing problem by taking your jeans to a dry cleaner and having them sew two little darts in the back. Now, she gave me this advice approximately 3 years ago, and considering I go to a dry cleaner twice a week, that is 312 visits to the dry cleaners when I could have had my jeans altered. And did I? No. (I mean, yes, Mom, yes I did.)

I did buy some really awesome "no-gap waist" jeans at Target last year, and when I realized the awesomeness of them I went back to buy at least 7 more pairs. But, alas, by then they were gone.

So, Pajama Jeans, with their fashionable hot pink drawstring, would solve the low-rise problem. And also the muffin top problem, because you wouldn't cinch that hot pink drawstring tight enough to create blobs of abdominal fat. (I'm told another solution to the muffin top problem is "stop eating.")

Now, I erred on the side of too big when ordering my Pajama Jeans, because I sensed that the Pajama Jeans return process would be a really big pain in the ass. I'm thinking my senses were right, because it took 3 weeks just for them to get the Pajama Jeans to my door. (And BTW the site says, "16 shopping days until Christmas," which means you won't be getting those Pajama Jeans in time to gift them for Christmas. Get ready to say, "Happy New Year! You'll be spending 2011 in Pajama Jeans!")

My initial assessment of the Pajama Jeans was, like hell these look like regular jeans. What jeans have a hot-pink drawstring (or, okay, any drawstring) and no zipper? I thought they looked baggy and unflattering, but due to their amazing comfort, I decided to give them a try yesterday. I mean, given the general level of formality in my day-to-day activities, I could very well just go around wearing regular pajamas and nobody would say anything.

So, right after changing into my Pajama Jeans post-workout, somebody gave me a compliment at the gym that indicated that I have improved my physical appearance along the lines of Jared from Subway. Could Pajama Jeans really be flattering after all? No, I'm sure it's my extreme discipline in eating and working out that led to this drastic body change.

Stop laughing.

Anyway, I wore my Pajama Jeans the rest of the day, basking in comfort. And although I did not sleep in them because my difficult child has stopped napping, I did briefly zone out while wearing them during his completely inaccurately-named "quiet time." For those 4 minutes between shrieks of "I hate this show" and general climbing on top of my body, I actually fooled myself into thinking I was wearing pajamas.

I think as the Pajama Jeans stretch out throughout the day, they get a little bit big. But I wish they had been around while I was pregnant, because I think they would make good maternity jeans. For my current lifestyle, perhaps they will make good cheese-eating jeans.

The bottom line is, Pajama Jeans are kind of like a $40 pair of sweatpants. Which means that they are (1) overpriced, and (2) not ideal for most moderately-formal situations. But good luck trying to pry them off my body. I'm never wearing actual pants again.