Haunt Couture: Why Laura Jackson Decided To Up Her Pyjama Game 

You’ve probably heard it from your Nan: always wear nice undies, because you never know what might happen! (And who might catch a glimpse.) But just in case the unexpected happens while you’re slumming it at home in your washed out tracky dacks, Peppermint sewing manager Laura Jackson’s adding pretty PJs to her list of preferred ‘ghost outfits’…  Because shuffling off this mortal coil can be perfectly stylish, too.

I, like so many of my fellow sewists, live a life of endless lists of ‘to-sew’ patterns, fabrics and garments. My stitchy to-do list is longer than my arm and it ain’t getting any shorter. There are just so many wonderful surface pattern designers, indie pattern-makers and small businesses who I want to support, that I am simply never short of inspiration for garments I’d like to sew. But you know what just does not seem to make its way to the top of the list? Pyjamas. Jimmy-jams, PJs, jarmies. They just don’t rate highly enough for me to commit time and fabric to them. I mean, barely anyone even gets to see them. The ratio of bang vs buck is low on the ‘thanks-I-made-it-ometer’.

Check out my day-wear wardrobe and you’ll see great designs, colour, fun prints and patterns. Endless dresses, wide-leg pants, puffy sleeves and ruffles. Oh, the ruffles you will see! In contrast, lay your peepers on me in the evenings and you’re set for a surprise. You see, pyjamas are where my worn-out old day clothes go to die. Aside from a few bits that a most wonderful sewing friend has made me for various birthdays over the years, my range of nightwear is a (not-so) glorious array of frayed elastic waistbands, sagging hems and stretched out old t-shirts – basically any item of clothing that’s too ratty for public viewing and therefore also too ratty to be donated. I can’t bring myself to add them to the ever-growing piles of textile landfill, so they retire to the top shelf to live out their days as night owls.

I didn’t really think much of my lame nocturnal garb until a friend and I booked a night in a hotel so we could go and see a musical without having to drive home. Fabulous! I took multiple shoe and outfit options for the theatre, so many accessories and even bag options. When it came to packing the practical stuff, I didn’t even think twice about pyjamas as I snatched up a random couple of items to sleep in. Fast forward to bedtime, we’ve been to the musical, gone out for dinner and then (like the kewl kids we are) hit the dance floor for a good few hours before giggling our way back to the hotel. My friend pops into the bathroom and we both start getting organised for bed. Out she walks, post shower, in a beautiful matching set of royal blue satin pyjamas with bright white piping. What did she see when she looked my way? Some truly ancient (I’m talking 10+ years old) fast fashion leopard print, jersey hammer pants I wore through two pregnancies and which are so stretched my kids are constantly laughing about being able to see my underwear poking out the top, paired with a faded old T-shirt featuring a stretched neckline and the hem down along one edge. In the words of Fergie, G.L.A.M.O.R.O.U.S.

This was a pivotal moment. I needed to get pyjamas on the ‘to-sew’ list. Stat. The next week I grabbed some fun, lightweight cotton slub and picked through my sewing patterns to see what I had that could pass for pyjamas. I turned out a pair of ruffled shorts and a cropped top with a darling scooped hem. In posting my make online a fellow sewist made reference to me finally having a decent ‘ghost outfit’. Ghost outfit, you say? I’d never heard of such a thing. Tell me more! She went on to educate me that the theory goes that whatever you’re wearing when you meet your unfortunate end becomes your outfit for life – or rather after-life. This idea harked back to memories of my Nan telling me that your underwear should always be neat, never old and daggy, lest you have an accident and have to go to hospital and the medical team might lay eyes on your less-than-spectacular knickers. Whilst this might be an old-timey way of thinking, it did inspire me to consider my pyjamas as just another way to express my creative self in life.

Coming up with my criteria for the perfect pjs was simple. They needed to be breezy and loose-fitting, they needed to be sewn from natural fibres and they needed to move with me as my body changes (read: elastic waistband). The pattern stash gods came through with Simplicity S8995, which I used for the shorts, and the Eucalypt dress by Megan Nielsen, which I used for the top. I made some length adjustments to both patterns (and possibly went too bold with upsizing the shorts) and voila! Pyjamas! Other patterns which made the shortlist included the Peppermint Loungewear set, Paradise Patterns Honeygirl Lounge Set, and Matchy Matchy Sewing Club Ruffle Brunch Set. The fabric was a lightweight cotton slub from Spotlight.

Now that I’ve sewn some bright and comfortable pyjamas you can bet that by the time it comes for me to be haunting a house I won’t be creeping in the corners, clutching to keep my baggy pants from pooling around my feet: instead, I’ll be using every hallway as a runway and strutting my fine ghost-self in my fine ghost outfit for eternity.