Growing soft

By now everyone reading my blog probably figured out that I care a whole lot about my looks. I can find such happiness in shoes or bags or sweaters even, I never leave the house without mascara, or without earrings. That’s so typically me. It’s inherent. I want people to see the best part of me, the prettiest part. You just never know who’ll you run into after all.

Via 9gag.

Via 9gag.

But.

There’s a but.

When I share a house with you, you will get to see a different side of me. The side that doesn’t always wear earrings or mascara, the side that wears pyjamas. Shock! Horror! You see, sometimes I’m equally lazy and vain. When I get up in the morning and I need something from the fridge, well, I’ll just check to see if my face looks okay, but I’m not going to change my clothes. First things first. It’s as simple as that.
But it’s not just during the morning, when I’m too apathetic to care. When I know I will be home the entire day and I just have to study, I always put on something comfortable. After all I’m a dancer and I have troubles sitting in a normal way without moving, walking around, occasionally stretching and so on. You get the picture. I need my possibility to move in any direction, so I need clothes who can handle that urge for freedom.

And now my mother, who has the ability to buy the most amazing things for me, bought me pyjamas. But not just pyjamas. A most comfortable, cute pair of trousers, a T-shirt with a drawing of a cat, soft white things that are a cross between socks and slippers, and a fleece vest – fleece inside and out. It’s the softest thing ever, I swear. So I’ve kind of come to the point where I don’t want to change clothes anymore. I could live in that vest and be happy. Satisfaction is fleece. It’s like wearing a teddy bear.

So yeah, everyone sharing the house with me, ten other people who were strangers up until the point I moved in, gets to see me wearing pyjamas and a fleece vest. I might not look sexy, I might not look dazzling, but dammit, there is no reason to wear anything else when I’m at home. I will do the effort of picking a fitting T-shirt to go with it, but that’s the end. You will never ever see me wearing such things once I left home, but once there – it’s all comfy and soft.

What do you like to wear at home? Do you like fleece vests?