By Cedric Furryfellow III

I find, with the passing of years, I am becoming a bear of increasingly simple needs. Some might even go so far as to label me a monk-like and ascetic sort of soul. Long gone are the extravagant whims and materialistic desires of my youth, which at times had made me (I confess) quite a decadent young bear.

Don’t get me wrong; I still gather to me the basic amenities necessary to the lifestyle of the genteel and civilized Ursus Major. I speak here of essentials such as freshly roasted coffee, assorted cakes and pastries, good quality Beaujolais, imported Stilton and cave-aged Gruyere, plum brandy, filet mignon, peach cobbler, an extensive library, several Montblanc fountain pens, fine stationery, a silver-plated tea service, and my unparalleled collection of 1950s jazz recordings on original vinyl. However, chief amongst my list of must-have little indulgences is my vintage 1920 cherry wood and walnut armoire, containing my extensive wardrobe of handmade pajamas.

Good quality nightclothes are, for me, the very epitome of creature comforts. How anyone with any pretensions to gentility and / or mature sensuality can do without at least a dozen stylish outfits for the boudoir is simply beyond my imagining. I myself have invested in no fewer that 72 pairs of pajamas and fourteen bathrobes of the highest quality. And, let me assure you, each and every one of them has been put through its paces!

Sometimes, after indulging in a mite too much culinary fare too close to bed time, I have been troubled by particularly disturbing dreams in which I have to quickly evacuate my residence in order to escape some natural calamity or another. In this nightmare, with tornado and tidal wave bearing down upon me, I have to frantically pack a small leather suitcase that will hold only a few items of clothing. I am forced, therefore, to choose only a very small selection of sleepwear! Which to take?! My antique Pondicherry dressing gown, sewn from the silk of rare nocturnal silk worms and hand-painted with orchids and dragons, is the obvious first choice. Followed soon after, of course, by the leopard-print p.j.s (always the first choice for evenings of romantic friskiness!). Beyond that, I don’t suppose I could do for very long without my red flannels, which are absolutely de rigueur for fireside hot chocolate sessions. Or, for that matter, the light, bright yellow jammies which never fail to lift my spirits after a long day of dreary board meetings with my humans. But still, how can I leave the others behind??? Egad, what a dreadful dilemma!

Fortunately, it is only a dream. In reality, I will never be forced to make such a hideous choice. Night after night I will continue to enjoy the sweet pleasure of shedding my daily cares along with my overly-confining diurnal apparel, then slipping into the comforts of whichever of my night-time garments suits my particular fancy that evening. Aaaah, the joys of civilization.

Some of our readers have kindly sent in their own favourite pajama photos.