Saturday evening I found myself inside of the women’s section of Target all by my lonesome.
I was feeling invigorated by my unplanned “me” time and decided to try on a bunch of clothes, including a long sleeved onesie that I randomly stumbled across!
Honestly, I’ve struggled to make sense of why they exist.
Like why on earth would grown up ladies want to hunch themselves up into all kinds of impossible positions to snap the coochie clasp of a onesie on themselves. Like they aren’t hard enough to put on babies. Like fumbling around down there just to pee is normal. Like a regular shirt doesn’t just make more sense.
Pro Tip: Step into bodysuit and slide up if at all possible.
But, I figured, before I judge too hard, I should try it.
I mean, try it again.
I’m sure it’s no surprise to discover that I used to be a onesie girl. Only, back in the 90s, because we were cool and sophisticated with our preteen selves and our 7 inches of Aquanet enhanced bangs, we called them bodysuits. And they came in velvet, and with ruffles and zippers and all manner of relative insanity to make them and you feel and look more awesome.
Somehow, then, it made perfect sense. Because of course I’m wearing my velvet, ruffle sleeved bodysuit with my stirrup pants, loafers, and knit vest. Of course I am.
Now it makes zero.
But in a fit of I-never-go-anywhere-alone reckless abandon, I decided to take that Target onesie bodysuit into that dressing room with me and see just what women of today were playing at.
Newsflash: it was as unflattering and ridiculous as you can imagine.
But, it was also stretchy. And soft. And soooo comfortable!
I have to admit, if I closed my eyes, and pretended I was 22, it wasn’t entirely horrible. And, I finally see why Bey lives life in only a onesie!
Okay, not really. It’s ludicrous.
But, based on comfort alone, I feel like onesie life could be kind of great.
So, I bought it!
I’d show you a photo, but super inappropriate and also gross.
Just know that it is mine and I wore it for a total of 8 hours yesterday to the chagrin of my entire family and my crotch.
Here’s what you need to know.
I Wore a Bodysuit All Day and Here’s What Happened
Peeing is really stupid.
Just down right dumb. Entirely inconvenient. And I don’t mean like cute jumper inconvenient, I mean like dude, I dislocated my spine trying to get the stupid crotch snaps back together following the incident inconvenient. Bright side, you don’t have to get naked to make the magic happen. But, don’t even be in a hurry to finish up.
Chaffing is real.
Summer heat and humidity, mixed with a few hours outdoors and some serious thigh game and you will be spread eagle-ing it later on your bed while you rub Desitin on your lady bits and fan them with the nearest magazine you can get your hands on.
You can actually see your lunch.
They’re tight, ok? Like a swimsuit. You eat lunch at work and your coworkers can actually watch your food digest through your shirt from their desks.
They go with everything and really, nothing at all.
They are the perfect shirt because they’re tucked in nice and neat –no bunching, no length issues, no exposing your tramp stamp butt crack when you bend down to manage your kid’s shoe laces. Buuuuut, also, nothing really looks great that tucked in, and no belt, scarf, vest, or jacket helped me manage the mischief.
Contrary to popular belief (Beyonce, I’m talking to you), they’re supposed to be worn with pants.
Each and every time. I contemplated going grocery shopping, to football practice, and on my photo shoot just straight onesied and pantsless, but I figured I’d be arrested.
If you think this is a style you can pull off here’s an off the shoulder bodysuit similar to the one I got to try.