How I Finally Gave In to the Adult Onesie

In praise of the 24-hour garment

One for all and all in one. (Photo: Stocksy/Preappy)

Early in the pandemic I found my new favorite sartorial item for a woman in midlife. It’s a throwback — all the way to the cradle. 

I speak, of course, of the adult onesie.

Look, I’d fought it long and hard. I scoffed when I first saw the onesie’s tailored older sister, the jumpsuit, reemerge on the fashion scene 10 years ago. Maybe I’d have been tempted in my teens and twenties, but as a mother of two, with the bigger hips and smaller bladder capacity to show for it? Not happening. As someone once wrote on social media: “Sure, that jumpsuit looks cute. And then one day it’s you, a public bathroom, and your own poor choices.”

Then I wandered into a Gap one day in 2019. Hanging right in front of me was a lavender jumpsuit that Rosie the Riveter might have worn to a spring wedding. Gorgeous shade, soft and sturdy fabric, available in my size, and most importantly: VERY deeply on discount. I brought it home and put it on and immediately realized that this jumpsuit was the answer to almost all my fashion prayers. 

Wake up, zip up, and — boom — I’m dressed. There is no coordinating of tops and bottoms. There is no thought at all. There is just a cute lewk in which to go about your day. Throw a scarf around your neck and it’s like you’re walking a Parisian runway. 

Yes, jumpsuits do require some bathroom advance planning. But honestly, at this age, I’m on the frequent rotation schedule anyway, so I may as well be wearing something cute when I need to excuse myself yet again. After that first impulse buy, I was all in. I quickly acquired a long-sleeved denim jumpsuit and a hot pink formal jumpsuit and a short-sleeved sparkly jumpsuit. I was building a signature style for my dotage, like Iris Apfel and her horn-rims.

Then the pandemic hit. And even zipping up seemed like too much work, especially now that my only runway was the path from the kitchen to the bedroom to the home office.

And that’s when Gap once again offered a solution. They started selling an adult version of the exact garment in which I’d dressed my infant daughters two decades ago, minus the crotch snaps and duckie print. Soft cotton fabric from neck to wrist to ankle. Maybe some elastic or a sash to gently hug your pandemo-meno-pot into the suggestion of a waistline and convince you it’s Fashion. 

It wasn’t until I got my first onesie home that I recognized its true brilliance: you don’t even have to change out of it at bedtime. Three years and two additional onesies later, I still take comfort knowing that if I pull one on in the morning, I am saved from thinking about clothes for a full 24 hours. 

If old age truly is a return to infancy, I say bring it on. At least I’ll be dressed the part.