My pajama pants are officially dead. Today when I hung them on the line I realised this was the end. Martin will be so pleased, he is always telling me off for getting around in rags. It's not that I can't afford new stuff I just seem to get my favourites and wear them into the ground. If I know I don't have to go out anywhere I will slob around in pj's all day...there is something comforting about elasticised waists. It's almost as if they are saying "you know I think you may have gained a few pounds, but dont't panic I will just stretch a little further!"
The only thing worse than my daggy wardrobe is my shoe collection...I gave up on trying to buy new shoes years ago, my feet are just so broad and two different sizes so I just buy thongs. I have my every day thongs which are three years old and like my pj's are almost buggared. Then I have my shopping thongs which are a little tidier but nowhere near as comfy. Then last of all there's my going out thongs. Thankfully we don't go out to often as high heeled thongs and me don't seem to get along so well.
I think I will wait till my pj's are dry then I will carefully cut them into strips for polishing the car....may they live on (and on and on and on!).