Licentiate Column 12/05/11: Fashioning Nightwear

What do you wear in bed? Burberry pajamas? Silk kimonos? Calvin briefs? Something saucy by Elle MacPherson or (cue scandalised gasps) Ann Summers?

The politics of nightwear aren’t so much convoluted as they are unexplored. I can’t remember the last time a fashion magazine dedicated a shoot to fashionable nightwear, if ever. I doubt somehow that the sticky subject of what to wear while unconscious and riding the waves of REM has Anna Wintour and Grace Coddington engaged in vicious debate over the best hemline for a babydoll nightie.

A straw poll taken amongst my female friends (the answers the males gave are unfit for print and would probably result in a mental-picture induced fainting fit) revealed that fashion has no place between the sheets, unless grey Marks and Spencers t-shirts are the new Spring/Summer trend that Vogue have unforgivably forgotten to report on.

We already over-analyse what we should wear to weddings, to dates, at work and at play. Why not stir a pot already overloaded with spoons and discuss the ramifications of what you wear in bed? That grey tee will never look the same again.

1) Pajamas. Loose fitting shirt and trousers, often made in a cotton or silk material. A much beloved Christmas present from clueless maiden aunts the words over, pajamas are basically slouchy suits. The pajama is the formal matriarch of the nightwear family. It is staid, perennial and probably best worn in cream silk with reams of pearls, a la Coco Chanel. Here’s a bonus fun fact: Pajamas were, up until the 1940’s, an acceptably chic form of daywear. Those girls who go to Tesco in their best Penney’s piggy print know more than they’re letting on.

2) Baby-doll nighties. Super short, often transparent nightgowns, sometimes sold with matching underwear. Much-maligned, under appreciated and terminally neglected now that suggestion just doesn’t cut it in the sexy stakes, baby-dolls were once the pinnacle of Playboy risque. Modern baby-dolls are close cut on the hips and have slightly seedy connotations. If buying, vintage baby-dolls are your best bet. Be warned, old polyester can scratch like angry sandpaper and if worn by the wrong person, can make you resemble a circus tent with legs.

3) T-shirt and underwear. By far the most popular answer in the straw poll, the thinking behind this combo is that, before bed, you take off everything but your underwear and cotton vest. And that’s it. No effort equals high function and low impact. Many women labour under the thought that this is actually the sexiest option for bed-time attire and they’d be right, unless their partner watches too many exotic films. It’s you with the absolute minimum of clothing on - what’s not for your partner to love?

4) Funzie - The adult version of a onesie, this is best indulged on a lonely night in front of the tv, with a tub of ice cream and a dab of paraphilic infantilism. Just say no.

Licentiate Column 26/01/11

I'll listen to everything that I'm told, but I almost never listen to a) my father or b) political news.  Both are fond of grand pronouncements, hyperbolic accusations and statements resulting in a sense of self-loathing the likes of which The National Enquirer can only dream of publishing.

It's fortunate that the one time I actually did listen to my father was in regards to politics - a double whammy that filled up my aural assault quota quite nicely, thank you very much.  He told me that the population of Ireland is close to the population of Manchester, but we have as many political representatives as country ten times Ireland's size.  The result is a tin-pot government, unable or unwilling to pull itself out of the country's present funk due to a lethal combination of corruption, ineptitude and a misguided sense of self-entitlement.

Ireland needs a Maggie Thatcher.  Calm down now, put down your pitchforks and Poll Tax paraphenalia, I'm not suggesting for a nanosecond that Ireland needs a woman who refuses people a fair wage, denies small children their calcium and plays with the power grid as if it was a tricky dimmer switch.

Margaret Thatcher was the Iron Lady, a politician that you could legitimately hate for legitimate reasons.  With her navy blue power shoulders and impervious helmet of hair, she personified the cold, steely, uncaring gaze of an impassive statue, unflinching at the chaos she was causing.  Our politicians bumble about more than the Three Stooges and the Marx Brothers in a bouncy castle and retain the slightly greasy sheen of stress-induced sweating as if was going out of fashion (which it is).  The rumpled suits of Brian Cowen only add to his frazzled 'Whoops, there goes the Central Bank!' aura.  The shoulders of his suits are cut exclusively for faux-contrite shrugging or incredibly defensive prognostication.  Ireland's politicians are every bit as as bad as Thatcher; their shambolic, pseudo-apologetic clothing is the only thing to dictate otherwise.

We need politicians to smarten up and fly right.  The adoption of Margaret Thatcher as a sartorial National Treasure in Britain despite the deep well of public hatred (she was photographed for Vogue by Mario Testino in 2008) should draw attention to the power of the right suit in the face of gross ineptitude.  We need a decisive leader who can take charge, preferably with a swift jab of an Aquascutum handbag and the flash of a well-turned out ankle (Brian Lenihan or Enda Kenny, I'm looking at you).

What we really need are some good politicians, but since that's a near impossibility, we should just tart up the terrible ones that we have.  Give them some small veneer of public professionalism with the right clothing and attitude, and we'll have reason to double our complaints.  Backcomb Mary Harney's hair and cement with a pint of hairspray into the eponymous Thatch, pop her into a pair of suitable Ferragamos and presto!  We have a new Maggie.

A term coined appropriately at the apex of Reaganism and Thatcherism, 'politics is showbusiness for ugly people' still stands strong today.  And if that really is the case, then we're all watching Eastenders - not Questions and Answers.