By Sean Carey
One day last January, around 7:00 in the evening, I was coming out of Sainsbury’s in St. Albans (near a car wash described in a previous post), laden with bags of shopping. I saw a white woman in her mid-30s, getting out of her smart sports car at the supermarket’s filling station.
Why did I notice her? Despite the winter cold and gloom, she was wearing bright pink pajamas and color-matching furry slippers.

As a never-off-duty cultural anthropologist I was very keen to see how the cashiers in the filling station would react to the unusually attired customer. I decided that it was an opportune time to engage in some participant observation by driving my car to the forecourt and putting some fuel in the tank.
My timing was impeccable. I followed the pajama-clad HSBC employee into the filling station’s check out and stood behind her in the queue. When it was her turn to pay, the transaction went smoothly enough.
Despite their obvious curiosity, neither of the two cashiers seated behind the counter was bold enough to ask the woman why she was dressed the way she was. I did notice a twinkle of amusement, however, in the eyes of the female cashier when she caught the gaze of her male colleague. He smiled back at her. I found myself smiling as well.
At the time, I thought that going out in public while dressed in pink pajamas and furry slippers was idiosyncratic. I discovered a few weeks later that such attire is a fad in at least one other part of the U.K., where the country’s largest supermarket group, Tesco, decided that it would try and eliminate it before it became a long-term trend.
Despite the financial penalty to the company, Tesco refused to serve customers dressed in pajamas or walking barefoot in its store in St. Mellons in Cardiff, Wales. Signs placed at the entrance of the supermarket read:
To avoid causing offence or embarrassment to others we ask that our customers are appropriately dressed when visiting our store (footwear must be worn at all times and no nightwear is permitted).
“We’re not a nightclub with a strict dress code, and jeans and trainers are of course more than welcome,” a Tesco representative told reporters. “We do, however, request that customers do not shop in their PJs or nightgowns.”
Here is an anthropology connection, from more than half a century ago, to understanding pajamas-in-public.
“Ever since the middle of the 18th century, the scope and rigour of formality has been on the decline, modes of dress and of address have become increasingly casual, precedence and protocol increasingly irrelevant,” wrote British anthropologist Sir Edmund Leach in an essay for New Society in 1965. He was commenting on the deep social and cultural changes that had taken hold in most of Western Europe, the U.S., and “newly westernised” countries like Japan.
Continue reading “When pink pajamas go public”



