Stop Dressing Like Trash at Home

If you don’t think you need to look like you’re on the runway while watching "The Silence of the Lambs" for the thirty-second time, you’re in for a rude awakening.

As we brace for 2019 and stack up our resolutions, Broadly is focusing on finding motivation for the hard tasks that await us—like getting out of bed. So, throughout January, we're rolling out Getting Out of Bed, a series of stories about all things related to rest and resilience. Here, Diana Tourjée interprets this in Fashionating, her column about scathing fashion truths you may not be ready to hear.


On any given day, I find there aren’t many reasons to get out of bed. If I weren’t employed full-time, I wouldn’t. But whether I’m getting up on a Monday morning to meet my week or lounging around on the weekend, few things drive me to lift the covers quite like clothes. I like to stare at my wardrobe, which stands just a few feet from my bed on a heavy old clothing rack, and think. Sometimes, I think really hard. Figuring out what to wear excites me, regardless of my plans for the day: Getting dressed to leave the house is one thing, but people overlook the importance of dressing to stay in. If you don’t think you need to look like you’re on the runway while watching The Silence of the Lambs series for the thirty-second time, you’re in for a rude awakening. You’re not supposed to look like shit at home, and no one looks good naked.

Most people probably don’t give a shit about how they look when they’re home. Some walk around naked, like a dissociated witch, several centuries out of Rome, trying to find her coven in the pantry. Others tend to wear tacky shit they purchase at the supermarket, or wherever polyester flannel drawstring pants are sold. All of them have failed to recognize the opportunity that bed-based outfits provide for extreme comfort and style.

Say goodbye to careless home-wear and welcome the comfort costume. It’s easy to be lazy about clothing when you have nowhere to go; your home is the one place you don’t really need to think about it. But you should think about it. Not to please other people, but to reap the benefits of exaggerated, costume-style comfort ensembles. And, trust me, there are benefits. Life is given a sense of importance when you're purposeful about the way you look, and when you design absurd outfits to wear all Saturday inside, that meaning is elevated. And by capitalizing on the isolation intrinsic to your bedroom, your identity can spread its wings, unscrutinized by criticism from assholes like me.

You’re not supposed to look like shit at home, and no one looks good naked.

If you’re thinking, This bitch doesn’t know shit, I look cute at home no matter what I’m wearing, then I challenge you to aim higher. This isn’t about you being beautiful. And it’s not about being complacent, either. It’s about the power of a large cashmere scarf, wrapped around your torso like a dress, and the ceaseless pleasure of bunchy thigh-high socks paired with white panties and a gigantic, cropped cotton hoodie. An oversized T-shirt dress, boxer shorts, or a simple robe is not enough. You need to become a creative eccentric—so outrageous and remarkable that a deliveryman would cock her head while handing you your pizza.

This is a highly individualized process, and the truth is that you need to figure out for yourself how to make a look happen that also makes you want to fall asleep inside of it. But there are some classic comfort costume combinations I might suggest. Vintage T-shirts make excellent head wraps, whether your hair is soaking in all-day conditioning treatments or not; high-waisted velour shorts pair wildly with a floor-length silk robe; leggings hug gently under an oversized thermal. Try wearing slippers with socks. Buy arm warmers explicitly for binge-watching The Matrix trilogy (yes, all three.) Find some full-on flared terry- cloth sweatpants. Pair a classic slip with a scrunchie and cover your face in raw eggs. This casual couture will make you feel like a TV obsessed sorceress, giving new meaning to your life when you might otherwise be lost in the delusion that style is something that exists discretely from your private life.

When I don’t have to go to my job, I spend most days in bed, getting up on the rare occasion I need to find the remote for my TV, retrieve a can of Diet Coke, or lay on the floor of my bathtub for two hours. Bed Life is the best life. But whether I have to traipse to my kitchen to look for a lost bag of pretzels in the middle of a conference call with my entire family or force myself up for the office, nothing motivates like putting on a crimson satin robe and an original Star Wars Episode III Revenge of The Sith (the best one in whole series) shirt, or a fresh set of heather gray tabi socks with a soft pair of biker shorts and a loose black t shirt—even, and especially, when I don’t have to be motivated to do anything but scroll through scary stories on Reddit.