The same shredded sweatpants
Patricia Marx in the New Yorker last July:
With so many people homebound these past few months, indoors has become the new outdoors. It is where you exercise, digitally chat with friends, and, of course, work. But it is also still the indoors, where you sleep, eat, and putter. This can make for frequent wardrobe changes. Or you can give up and wear the same shredded sweatpants day after day. In April, a Florida circuit judge named Dennis Bailey sent a letter to local lawyers about proper attire during Zoom court hearings. “It is remarkable how many attorneys appear inappropriately on camera,” he wrote. “We’ve seen many lawyers in casual shirts and blouses, with no concern for ill-grooming, in bedrooms with the master bed in the background, etc. One male lawyer appeared shirtless and one female attorney appeared still in bed, still under the covers. So, please, if you don’t mind, let’s treat court hearings as court hearings.”
For hours after I read that I kept thinking of the one female attorney snuggled up in bed at a court hearing and laughing myself sick.
We received all sorts of instructions when we went to remote, and one of the things they said is to continue to dress professionally. I know a lot of the instructors aren’t doing that, but I still do. The students really can’t see anything but my head for the most part, but it sort of helps to delineate work time and home time. When all I have to do to switch from working to writing is swivel the chair and turn on the desktop, it can start to bleed together sometimes.
I’m guessing it would also help to delineate “people can see you” time from “nobody can see you” time. I guess that’s why I find the lawyer tucked up in bed so hilarious.
My solution to this problem is still very effective – I tell everyone that I believe that cameras steal your soul and so I disable the camera and attend audio only. For one meeting, my sock puppet avatar attended.
Pliny, that works great when I’m going to meetings, and that’s what I do, so no one can see me ignoring them. When I’m teaching, though, I have to have my camera on. It’s sort of required. And my first couple of weeks, I had no spot where I could go that I could both have quiet and be able to hook up my computer except my bedroom. Fortunately, I was able to aim my camera so all they saw was a wall. Now I have an elaborate set up, and they can see my books in the background.
This is one of the subjects where I turn into a grouchy old man. (Or Larry David, which is maybe the same thing now.)
I have observed for years now this growing trend of adults who act like goddamn toddlers who want to wear their jammies all day, because adult clothes are SOOOOOOO UNCOMFORTABLE, MOMMY! I used to see people showing up at coffee shops and restaurants on weekends wearing their pajamas, though thankfully that trend seems to have passed.
How hard is it to wear a pair of jeans or khakis or freaking cargo shorts if you’re going out in public or doing a video call? I guess I just don’t understand — I used to come home and not necessarily even bother to change out of a suit some evenings, because I didn’t even notice any lack of comfort. (Yes, I would loosen or untie my tie — but even ties aren’t really uncomfortable unless you’re wearing too small a shirt collar.)
Yeah, Screechy, that’s been one of my pet peeves, too. We have turned into an infantile society in so many ways. It has been a few years since any of my students turn up in pajamas, at least. I toyed with the idea Friday of doing my video class in my pajamas because I got literally no sleep the night before, but I rejected that idea and put on my business clothes, my scarf, my hat, and my earrings. I even wear my work pants, though there have been a couple of days I’ve worn sweatpants to teach, since they can’t see. But only because my clothes in the dryer hadn’t gotten dry yet, and I waited so long to do the laundry that I didn’t have anything else.
I must confess that I am one of those people; mostly I put on jeans if I go out but on my short walks to buy soda at a Dollar Tree or grab fast food/beer I often don’t see the need. Fifty hours a week sweating in dirty jeans in a factory is quite enough.
And now, in the time of covid-19, what does it matter? Many only leave their house to buy food or go to work if they’re lucky.
As long as they don’t pull their penises out (those that have penises) during a hearing.
Heh. I’ve noticed that I have a weirdly gut-level insurmountable inhibition about being in public in sweatpants, ever, even for a second. This seems slightly odd to me because I never shared the shock-horror my mother had about jeans in public or jeans in Manhattan. I wear black jeans even in front of an actual audience, but sweatpants are somehow a whole other thing. Maybe it’s because you can’t wear a belt with sweatpants.