I don’t trust Pajama Jeans.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m all about comfort. But there’s something about charging me $39.95 for a pair of jeans that you’re simultaneously associating with both “designer” and “pajamas” that I’m just not okay with.
Infomercials may suck me in just as much as the next guy, but my suspension of disbelief does have limits.
Even more annoying is knowing that the company pays a pathetic amount per pair (denim/cotton blend = cotton) and only jacks the price up to $39.95 because they know that we think they must be worth the money if they cost just as much as a decent pair of jeans on sale. Right now in a neighborhood near you, someone is on their way to a sale at GAP or AE and thinking maybe I should just try those Pajama Jeans. They cost the same amount but they feel like pajamas! And that really irks me.
Furthermore, if you have your brain screwed in properly when you check out their website (3rd column under “Value”), you’ll notice that they offer to throw in a free crew neck t-shirt and claim that the package deal is worth $100.00. Okay so that’s 100 smackos minus the $39.95 for the magical pajama pants of luxury and freedom. Are they seriously claiming that the free crew neck cotton t-shirt costs $60.05 under other non-infomercial deal circumstances? It must look like a designer t-shirt but be as comfortable as…a…t-shirt. Double Yoo Tee Eff.
Now don’t get me wrong; I’ve never tried Pajama Jeans. I’ve never even seen them on a real live person. My disgust for Pajama Jeans is akin to my disgust for the Snuggie. It has something to do with the stupid name and the offer to solve a problem that isn’t really a problem. If you’re cold, put on a sweater. If you want to wear pajamas, wear pajamas. Money saved.
Well, that and the fact that I tend to judge things harshly and from a distance. I hated Garden State for 5 years until I sat down one day and realized I’d never actually seen it. I admit this is a flaw.
Let it be known that I am not against all Made for T.V. products. If you’ve read my blog or known me for any significant amount of time, you know that one day I will invent something that will pay for me to retire at a ridiculous age so that I can blog, do theater and be a crazy cat lady without being harrassed by bill collectors. In a way, infomercial products resonate deeply with me. Just not stupid ones.
Bare Minerals, for example, is a smart product with a reasonable claim and its promises were not sold to America with black and white melodramatic recordings and steroid-jacked TV announcers, but by a sensible woman presenting what she thought was an improvement to an outdated makeup staple.
There’s a dissertation of some sort to be written here. Maybe instead of spending my life hunting the million dollar idea, I should just write a guide on how to sell your million dollar idea.
Is this my million dollar idea?
Mmm…probably not… that’s what I thought about Oscar the Elephant and he still isn’t getting any airtime. ♣