Member-only story
My Caftan Has Changed My Work-From-Home Game
The ease, beauty, and comfort is becoming a way of life
My mom’s 1970s uniform is indelibly imprinted on my mind. It started with an ankle-length caftan with a dashiki print and warm orange, green, and blue hues. My mom’s Afro was about 10 inches in diameter. (She’s 5 feet 10 inches tall, and her hair made her well over six feet.)
She always wore hoop earrings and two heavy silver bangles on her wrist that she bought from a bazaar in her hometown of Newark, New Jersey.
The caftan moved around her, subtle and swift. She could cook dinner on the stove, tote my baby sister on her hip, while looking over my homework. Her caftan made her royalty, even when we were just watching Days of Our Lives.
And when my dad came home from work, he looked at my mom like she was the belle of the ball. Even though it was the very same outfit she wore when she was braiding my hair, going to the market, or setting the table for dinner.
Eventually, the caftans settled into the back of Mom’s closet. She went back to work, clocking in eight hours and then coming home to three children. She was the quintessential ’80s working mom, power suits and heels. At home, she sometimes stayed in her work clothes until it was time to go to bed. And then, she decided to go back to school, working an eight-hour day and working toward a degree during nights and weekends. She definitely had no need for all-in-one leisure wear.
Fast forward many years.
I am a writer. I have worked exclusively from home since 2001. I know how to manage my deadlines from home. I know how to use dry-erase boards to stay organized and I’ve always kept up with the tech necessary for video calls and other meetings.
What I never mastered: a proper work-from-home outfit.
When my two daughters were small, I wore sweats or T-shirts and jeans to get through the car line looking as normal as possible. Back at home, I left on my car line clothes or slipped back into pajamas. I worked in sweats and pajamas far more often than I’d like to admit. And yes, that includes throwing on a shirt over my pajamas for a video call. Sigh.
