By Ashley Robinson
“Do you love stylish, sexy jeans? Do you love soft, comfy pajama bottoms?”
That’s how it started … the infomercial for the second generation of Snuggie-era lazy clothes: Pajama Jeans. (Watch the infomercial here: https://www.pajamajeans.com/flare/next)
When I announced on Facebook that I had purchased not one, but accidentally two pairs of what I will refer hereafter as PJJ, friends were incredulous, outraged and intrigued. They wanted to know how soft they were, what they looked like and if I would really wear them out in public. And mostly, they wanted to know how I had so tragically fallen prey to strategically placed infomercials.
But I wasn’t able to answer most of those questions for over a month due to massive back-orders. After looking at the range of sizes – the extra-small being equal to a size 4 and the largest size being something along the lines of 34 extra large, I assumed these pants were largely attractive to lazy (like moi) or overweight women looking for non-jean jeans.
When I finally received my package of PJJ and the complimentary grey crew tee in the mail a month and a half later wrapped in a grey plastic bag, I immediately noticed the first fatal flaw: the pants are draw-string.
I am, what I like to call myself, an unproportional hourglass shape. My thighs are the widest part of my body and I rely on that give button or elastic waist pants provide when sliding them up to my waist. As the PJJ lack both of these elements (despite the ad falsely showing “stretch”), putting them on is more of a battle than I thought they would be. And assuming my body type is not a-typical to many women out there, this design flaw could be make it or break it. There is almost no stretch around the waistline.
Once I was able to combat my thighs and bring the paints up to my waist, (the waistline fitting nicely in its appropriate position) I also noticed the legs are slightly too short. I am 5’5”, a fairly average height. But the cuffs of these boot-cut pants hit slightly above my ankle making them what we called in junior high school, “high-waters” and flared, at that. Wanting to avoid the eau d’ dork I knew so well in my early teens, I sought to bring them down to that magic ankle spot where the crease hits just right on the shoe tag … thereby sagging the pants slightly, bringing the crotch to a very unattractive high mid-thigh position.
And that my friends, means they will never be worn out in public. I will not wear them out to a bar, I will not wear them traveling, I will not wear them exercising, and I will not wear them hanging out with friends, as the advertisement so enthusiastically recommends. Not even in my allergy-adled bed-ridden brain did I think I could crawl to the dog park in these horrendous looking pants. The Dog Park, people.
However, I will wear them in the privacy of my home.
Shortly after I received the PJJ, I had to stay home for a couple of days due to ill-health (which I later came to find out was just another sign of aging: the oncoming agony of allergies, blah). Once I was able to pull myself out of the NyQuil haze and brush my teeth, I took the PJJ out for a test drive.
It felt kind of nice to be at home and wearing something that didn’t look so much like sicky sweat pants (I don’t have $100 Lulu Lemon yoga pants like SOME people) but yet were comfy and soft on my unshaved legs. The inside of the pants are reminiscent of nice sweat pants, which makes wearing them casually very easy. And trust me, these pants do look like jeans (albeit really ugly ones). They have the gold stitching down the legs, brass rivets, pockets, and the faux denim texture looks true to life.
(The ad says it has a “smooth butt lifting design” … I don’t even know what that means … the back pockets are large enough to conceal a bumpy butt?)
The pockets were definitely a nice addition when trudging around the house. None of my sweat pants or pajama bottoms features such a luxurious design element that allow me to carry around my blackberry and other assorted tools of the trade.
So, you ask, are Pajama Jeans worth it?
Absolutely! Absolutely they are worth it if you are less than 5’3”, have slim thighs, like to hang around your house in comfy MOM jeans and never plan to wear them out in public. Absolutely, purchase Pajama Jeans … just don’t expect them to come in the mail any time soon.