AsiaLIFE

Many of us have wondered why Cambodian women wear their PJs in public, but few have had a go at it themselves. In her most recent challenge, Nora Lindstrom joins the latter group.

There are only two places where I have ever come across people wearing pyjamas in public. The first was my former college campus in Canada, where they would be sported by crapulent students trawling through the snow on their way to class. The second is more recently in the wonderful Kingdom of Cambodia, the Kingdom of Surprises, where it seems any and every woman owns pastel-coloured pyjamas and is not afraid to show them off. In an attempt to go native, I make my way to the market to get my very own pair. Difficult to locate at first, I prowl through stand after stand of clothes, but there are no pyjamas in sight, until I reach the underwear section that is. Now this may just be my western-logic playing tricks, but usually, if something is sold in the underwear section, doesn’t that generally imply the item is not to be worn openly in public? Not in Cambodia it seems. To be fair, it’s too hot to wear PJs at night anyway, so you have to find some use for them.

Looking through the various teddy-plastered, pastel-coloured designs I finally settle on an orange, cherry-spotted two-piece, with a bit of flair in front. The saleswoman is pleased. I’ve made a good choice she says, it’s both machine-washable and has a very elastic waistband. “Sohm dot-bram-mui” she demands. Sixteen dollars! This is without doubt the most expensive pair of pyjamas I have ever bought, but then again, they are not only for bedtime. They are for much wider use.

The following day I feel conspicuous and hot as I head out in my orange jumpsuit. In a sad attempt to look cool, I have accessorised the outfit with black high heels and big, black earrings. As I walk through the door the guard for the building next door whistles appreciatively and calls his mates over to have a look. They seem amused. Whilst running some errands around town I keep a keen eye out for fellow pyjama-wearers. To my surprise, and consternation, there seem to be very few around. Maybe PJs are out of fashion? Maybe I’m committing a major fashion faux pas even in the eyes of Cambodians? Maybe pyjamas are passé and I’m coming across as one of those sad little people who have yet to realise that socks in sandals are the ultimate no-go?

Just as I start to panic I spot my first partner in crime, which abolishes the crime altogether. Later on at the riverside I’m further encouraged by a motodop who shouts ‘Cambodian lady!’ after me. A group of tuk-tuk drivers also smile approvingly which makes me feel more confident. In all, locals seem to welcome me as one of them, one of many in this proud, pyjama-wearing populace. Barangs on the other hand appear more confused by my choice of attire, some seem even a bit taken aback. I have put them in an awkward position – here I am sipping cocktails at Chow wearing something completely unexpected, verging on inappropriate – an orange, cherry-spotted pair of pyjamas with flairs on the front! Most people don’t know whether to comment or simply carry on pretending everything is perfectly normal. One girl listens politely as I tell her about how I think my US$16 pair of pyjamas is a good investment, and comments that it’s probably very comfortable. Later on she figures out that I’m pulling her non-pyjama leg. “Thank God!” she exclaims, visibly relieved.

Most Cambodian women claim to wear pyjamas in public because they are comfortable. They certainly are, but in the April heat they are also incredibly hot, like miniature hothouses. I can also think of a number of other outfits that are equally comfortable, not pastel coloured or teddy-patterned, as well as cooler, like plain shorts and a t-shirt. But each to their own. My barang friends will no doubt be relieved to know that I won’t be sporting my orange jumpsuit again any time soon, unless I go back to university in Canada.