Going to Tesco in my pyjamas wasn’t high on my bucket list, but I ended up doing this as an experiment last summer. Pushing myself to do something I would never, ever do, right out of my comfort zone to see just what would happen. The point of the exercise was one of actions and consequences. Testing those high standards I had set myself over time, proving to myself that it’s OK to feel foolish. Who hasn’t been in a situation where you are having a bad hair day, red faced and sweaty from an abortive attempt at keeping fit, where you have bumped into a glamorous old friend you haven’t seen in years looking tanned, trim and tailored and you just wish the floor would open up as you exchange small talk. Or check yourself in the mirror after a lunch with friends, grinning like an idiot, and spy remnants of spinach salad stuck right between your front teeth. Or come out of the bathroom returning to a work meeting with the back of your skirt tucked into your pants?
Similar awkward moments have happened to most of us. I’d say all of us at one time or another. We can laugh them off, cringing with the memories, but nothing actually bad happens as a consequence - apart from the very uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment. However, the thought of being caught red handed, as it were, can play all sorts of trickery to the anxious mind. What people will say, or think, or how someone may judge you on a snapshot when you are out of your comfort zone can stop us right in our tracks. Which is why I ended up in Tesco in my PJs. I didn’t bump into anyone I knew – but even if I had, the exercise was to see what would happen if I had. What would be the worst-case scenario? Would I be cast into hell by the fashion police? Would the sky cave in like Chicken-Licken feared?
On the way to Tesco I had my doubts – I had on a very practical sensible pair of PJs, sturdy and very stripy and as I walked in, I inwardly winced and swallowed – what the heck was I doing?! I forced myself on, waiting for the judgement, waiting for the condemnation, waiting for the comments, looks and accusatory fingers – OH MY GOODNESS THERE IS A WOMAN WEARING PJS IN TESCO AT 3 O’CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON – but nothing. I think one guy double took a look. But I managed to buy something and left. Maybe someone noticed – maybe someone thought I was doing it for a dare, or fancy dress or just really didn’t care. The truth is, most people were just cracking on with their weekly shop to really notice what I was, or wasn’t, wearing. I have since discovered there is an army of school-run mums out there, often with coats flung over their PJs as they run into a shop grabbing last minute ingredients for their child’s home economics class, or takeaway sandwiches when they forget a pack lunch for a school trip.
Taking yourself out of your comfort zone is hard, really hard; especially if you, like me, have spent periods of your life really worried about being judged for who I am, by people who just don’t know who I am. Yet, we all put ourselves in the firing line, every day. My generation didn’t have social media platforms to perform on when we were growing up (imagine the angst!!), but most of us now hungrily embrace them, and are content to swipe our way through the day, spending glorious wasted hours looking at how other people live.
Does this add to our overall anxiety as a society – aren’t we all guilty of manufacturing a presence so we are not judged? Hands up who, like me, filters the good stuff – posting pictures of sunshine, blue skies and beaches, laughing children, smiley puppies, fizz, fancy food; angling every selfie just right so double chins, wrinkles and roots are less obvious. There aren’t many of us who include dirty washing baskets just in shot, the back of your son’s head while he is into the 13th hour of X-Boxing or the take-away cartons when basically you can’t be arsed to cook.
This filtering of our perfect lives is not good for our mental health – teenage girls in particular are prone to judge other girls by what they look like – forgetting of course that the photoshopped model they see hidden behind an Instagram or snapchat filter, does not look like that when queuing at the supermarket, or waking up groggy after sleeping off a heavy one.
There has been a fad recently during lockdown on Facebook where people were invited to do 10 Day challenges – you know the kind of thing - 10 best images that summarise you as a parent or dog owner; or listing 10 days in a row the most influential books or albums; and lots of my friends did them - but I don’t think anyone really took up any of these challenges honestly. Every album was something cool – every book showed off intelligence, every image an idyllic setting; carefully curated ready to be judged by the wider public. I didn’t do a challenge to be fair, but I am sure if I did, I would probably have thought twice about offering Adam & The Ants and Blyton’s Magic Faraway Tree; swapping instead for a bit of quirky Kate Bush and some Dostoevsky, because, who hasn’t read Crime & Punishment?
We are all guilty of manipulating the image of ourselves that we want to be judged by - that is how social media flourishes. Even reality shows such as Big Brother and Strictly are perfectly choreographed to sell us TV where contestants are our puppets, conforming to a stereotype; and like spectators of a battle, the general public give the gladiatorial thumb sign, voting who gets tossed to the side and who goes forward to fight another round.
Perhaps if we are all just a little bit more honest with ourselves, we may teach the next generation that they don’t have to be on show all the time. Surely, it is our responsibility to teach our children that perfection is hard to achieve all of the time? Making mistakes, looking foolish, feeling uncomfortable, coming last – normal daily occurrences nowadays sadly obscured by a medley of cropping, editing, and re-takes.
You can’t photoshop life. You can try if it makes you feel better, but every now and then just let that dirty washing basket in.
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