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“We shared deep passions. John Hughes movies, the New Romantics, the Chicago Bears. We both loved chicken-flavor Ramen and hated the shrimp flavor. We liked thin-crust pizza over deep dish, and wine over beer, and gin over vodka.”
― Stacey Ballis, Out to Lunch

“I love a lounging pajama."
You also love a marabou mule slipper and a satin robe with a train.
"It is elegant."
It is insane.
"It is sophisticated."
Sure, if you're Nora Charles. It isn't 1940.
"Yeah, but look at yourself."
I look in the mirror. The silk and cashmere blend fabric has just the right amount of drape to conceal the lumpier parts of me without clinging, but enough weight to seem more substantial than sleepwear. The color is somewhere halfway between cream and ballerina pink, a color I would never pick, but is a lovely counterpoint to my pale skin and dark hair. All in all, I look fairly adorable for this hour, certainly good enough to warrant a little morning attention.
"Told you so."
Yeah, yeah.
"Didn't I give you a matching robe for that?"
Don't push it.
"I'm just saying."
Fine. I grab the matching robe. It has a wide band of gathered elastic in the back that hits right above my tush, giving me shape, even though the robe isn't tied. Made of the same fabric as the pajamas, it doesn't add bulk the way most robes do, but instead almost serves as the same elegant look a long trench provides.
"HA!"
You are such a bad gloater.
"Too bad. You look utterly shaggable.'
Well I hope so, since I'm pretty sure Brian doesn't think he is coming over for an actual meeting.”
― Stacey Ballis, Out to Lunch