Maybe I am as crazy as my friends say. Maybe they are right to shake their heads at me. Maybe I would just end up looking like a young Hugh Hefner wannabe (also known as the rare twenty something actually creepy enough to get rejected from OK Cupid.) Now, I’ll be the first to admit that my recent interest in robes (coupled with my current pajama obsession of course) isn’t exactly normal. And sure it’s quite possible that I have gone a bit off the deep end with this one, but I really can’t help but wonder what ever happened to the good ol’ house robe?
In the not too distant past, the robe was a cornerstone of any off the clock ensemble, tailor made for lazy Saturday mornings, and post work cocktails while watching Carson (can you feel my delusional sense of faux nostalgia yet?) When worn right, a robe is the ultimate sign of calculated nonchalance. It is the one sartorial choice that Mark Zuckerberg got right – an item that stands in direct opposition to any and all standards for office attire, yet is also a far more dignified option than that pair of high school lacrosse shorts you should’ve tossed out years ago. Your boss might not wear a robe, but I can guarantee his boss does.
So, yes I might very well have lost it here, but for your next purchase I advise you to skip whatever suit, or pair of leather soles that you’ve been saving your sheckles for and go buy yourself a robe for goodness sake. It’ll greet you like a trusty dog at the end of a long workday, and keep your neighbors from calling the cops when you go out to get the paper in your skivvies on a Saturday morning. Of course, if you’re feeling bold, you can always take a page from Mark Rykken and just keep right on walking. It is the weekend after all, and you earned that robe.