A few years ago, Socrates’s pronouncement, “An unexamined life is not worth living” was ubiquitous. I remember reading it everywhere, and hearing celebrities and talk-show hosts spout it. The expression was akin to trendy words or phrases that seem to pop out of nowhere and then be heard everywhere, like “my bad” and “I need a drink.” That last one has survived many generations. Others, like “I’ll eat my hat,” didn’t fare as well.
Even when it was popular, “An unexamined life is not worth living” sounded like baloney (another word that is edging its way into obscurity, at least in this sense, and probably in the meat sense, too). Even if it is true, it sounds obnoxious. Examine your life if you’re so inclined, but don’t tell me that if I don’t examine mine, I don’t deserve to live.
If you haven’t yet listed everything you’ve ever done and relegated some of your actions to the positive column and others to the negative column in order to earn your right to life, that can wait. The question that you should really be focusing on is: Am I wearing pants?
I’m not talking about pants that are acceptable in the home, like yoga pants, sweatpants, or boxer shorts. I’m talking about pants that you can wear out in public, or even a skirt or a dress.
If the police arrived at your door right this minute to arrest you, would you feel comfortable going outside in what you’re wearing now? My guess is no. I surely wouldn’t. Fortunately for all of us, mug shots are usually taken from the chest up. But even if your current outfit doesn’t become part of your permanent record, don’t think you won’t be judged by your cellmates. Of course, they’ll probably be in their underwear, too. Which brings me to my point: While we muddle through the health pandemic, we have created another one: a bottomless society.
I recently saw a clip of a newscaster who was broadcasting from home. He was wearing a starched shirt, tie, and suit jacket. Without thinking, he pushed back from his desk and treated his viewing audience to a shot of his boxer shorts.
In ordinary times, this would be noteworthy, but now, it was just an amusing video clip that we all watched from our homes in our pajamas during working hours.
My friend told me that her husband appeared before a judge on a Zoom call yesterday. Her husband looked like he was wearing a suit from the waist up, but he was actually wearing pajamas pants on his bottom half.
Why are we not getting fully dressed? I realize that it’s normal to dress less formally at home than at work, but why have we become averse to dressing our bottoms? I am as guilty as anyone. Probably guiltier, because when I have work video calls, I usually attend them from bed if I’m not required to turn on my laptop’s camera. When I have to be seen, I roll out of bed, pull my hair back into a ponytail, put a giant hoodie on over my nightshirt, and wear big red-framed glasses to distract from my lack of makeup. What is going on with me and the rest of the world?
Are humans intrinsically lazy? I don’t think so, because you just know that in the 1950s, people would have gotten “dolled up” even if they were in the ICU. I’m sure there were plenty of men wearing suits and women wearing starched dresses and white gloves while hooked up to life-saving devices in the hospital. And as soon as they were released, I have no doubt that the men plopped on their fedoras. The women probably wore hats in their beds.
So, why have we – people who have examined our lives and deserve to live … and the rest of us – given up on half of our wardrobe? I think I know.
Early in the pandemic, I started receiving emails from retailers who were pushing sweatpants, yoga pants, and plaid pajama bottoms, because, they claimed, people weren’t wearing dress pants, or even casual pants, any longer. Now, realize, these ads arrived about a week into the pandemic. At the time, most of the world had been blindsided by COVID-19, and we were focused on our survival … and where to find toilet paper. We certainly weren’t thinking about quarantine fashion. But retailers were, and they pounced. They told us that we didn’t need to bother dressing our lower halves in work attire, and that we should all wear the equivalent of pajama pants all the time.
And we fell for it. All of a sudden, online stores had massive sales on extremely casual pants and we loaded up on them. And because these pants usually had elastic waistbands, we didn’t notice that we were loading up on food, as well. Several months into the pandemic, we couldn’t get into our nice pants and skirts even in our dreams.
You know who should examine their lives? The marketers and stores that told us to spend our days in loungewear. Not only have they turned us into a world of slobs, they’re also responsible for our collective weight gain. We had nothing to do with it.
This is a perfect example of why my life is better unexamined. I wouldn’t take the blame for my transgressions, anyway. I’d blame someone else.
Which reminds me: In the 1970s, another pompous saying was popular, “It’s better to light one candle than to curse the darkness.” You heard it everywhere. It was a very old Chinese proverb that was adopted by Father James Keller, the founder of the Christophers, in the 1940s.
Suddenly, one day, we all woke up and everyone was reciting it, when they weren’t the day before. Everywhere you went, you heard, “It’s better to light one candle than to curse the darkness.” To which, witty people would respond, “I’d rather curse.”
I would, too.