This past weekend, I had the chance to attend the Womenade Pajama Party with my gal Rhonda. Just think a bunch of women, many of whom don’t know each other gathering in the lobby of a local hotel with a local DJ and Zumba instructors. For my friends who have issues about wearing pajamas in public, this was one of those parties where you bust out the “for public” pajamas and just go with it. Yes, there was a photo booth and snacks. But what I enjoyed more was making a few observations about why chicks get into these kinds of things or as I’ve decided to call it –
“Why girls like hanging with their girlfriends”
- When you pack for a sleep over with girls all you need is a couple pairs of pajamas and a corkscrew (or fanny pack). No judgments passed.
- BYOB means, “hey girl I got an extra diet coke and it’s late, you need one to stay up and keep talking?” Dudes, well they hide their stash in a flask in their pocket and don’t share.
- We know their will be food, plenty of food. But we bring an impressive treat from the grocery store just in case we find a snobby friend who can’t eat chicken wings and celery. Hey I get it. I have heartburn too.
- We can take out our contacts and put on our glasses at 8PM and not worry if the people in the room will still talk to us.
- Because a photo booth can entertain us for hours.
Because bringing feminine hygiene products as an entry fee seems like a perfectly philanthropic idea – I mean really tampons and panty liners got us past the front door (PJs were appropriate, too)
Karaoke with your girl friends means a song from the 80s completely terrible and off key. When dudes are present-only the girls who are actual singers are fighting over ballads from the current top 100s chart.
having an all natural spa take over a hotel room and administer free foot care (complete with a towel warmer in the bathroom) and facials seems like a perfectly appropriate idea – even if you didn’t shave your legs or wax your eyebrows… and then we walked around the lobby with collagen restoration pads under our eyes. Jealousy, not judgment.