Onesie Moment, Please...

Admittedly, I have a lot of problems. But regressive, infantile fantasies that see me constantly battle a painful urge to wear adult nappies and suck my thumb in public are not one of them. Nor do I crave, as Freud believed we all do, “to return to the womb”.

Okay, not so sure about the last one given it could actually exist somewhere deep, deep in the inherent cesspool that is my subconscious, but who's judging?

My world does not, as the ABC's Annabel Crabb (alas, one of the many columnists who have expounded their nauseating pseudo-psychological theories on the subject) writes: “structurally infantilise me to a degree where I now see no alternative to dressing like an actual baby. I should be independent by now, but here I am – an overdeveloped house pet, in effect”. Wait, what?

Now, I'm no Carl Jung, but how's this for a theory: onesies are a fad. You know, a trend. These things come in waves; like planking, My Little Pony and mankinis. Maybe, just maybe, there is no need to read any kind of sick Freudian theory into it.

I have worn a onesie, albeit only once, to a friend's themed birthday party. Needless to say, my mother was horrified and refused to believe that I had willingly ordered the onesie, saying that, “the delivery man has made a mistake and dropped off a baby suit”. Oh mother, there's no mistake. That garish pink pig is mine.

Contrary to popular myth, it did not cause me to sink into a childish mess, but rather, provided me with some jolly good, warm comfort. End of.

So why all the hate?

Radio broadcaster (and non-onesie wearer) Stephen Cenatiempo likens the cuddly, animal suits to flaunting your pyjamas out in public: “It's a bit like the goth uniform,” he explains. “You know, all those people who make a big deal about wanting to, 'stand out, man', but they do it by being a conformist! It's about trying to be on trend by being ridiculous.”

But co-founder of online opinion site Something Clever, Daniel Cousens, finds onesie wearing is more a case of reel life, rather than reality.

“I can't say I've seen it a lot in real life,” says Cousens. “I have seen it a lot on TV or online media, and people tend to wear them at music festivals.”

The trend has spawned a stack of online stores, while at the time of publication there were 80,847 results for onesies on eBay.

“I don't get why people are making onesies sound like some weird fetish,” says 22-year-old Brighette Ryan, who claims that Ryan Gosling was behind her decision to purchase her pink giraffe playsuit.

“I think Ryan promoted them on Ellen, and that's why I went a bought mine. Look, they're just a fad, but they're a comfy fad.”

Cenatiempo agrees, kind of, adding that they're merely plush vehicles for attention seekers: “They're not even real onesies, anyway. They don't even come with socks.”

Needless to say, the hate and vitriol against the Japanese-inspired playthings has come thick and fast. Earlier this year, former Kevin Rudd spokesperson Lachlan Harris started an online petition calling for a onesie ban.

“As hard as it is to believe,” began Harris, “you are adults now. One of the least talked about, but most important, elements of adulthood is the responsibility to stop wearing clothes designed for small humans in nappies.” Ouch. (Despite several attempts, Harris did not return any of The Music's calls/SMSs/tweets).

The pro-onesie world hit back, launching a counter petition, titled 'Lockie Harris And Anyone Born Before 1983: Stop Petitioning Gen Y To Stop Wearing Onesies'.

Sufficient mudslinging took place. Insults were served. And, as expected, both parties managed to achieve absolutely nothing.

Ultimately, as with every obtusely, oversaturated fad, the real winners here are mates Tom Cohn and Nick Harriman, who are the co-founders of Kigu – one of the biggest online onesie retailers. The pair originally bought 300 suits back from Japan for a cool two grand. A few years on, and their turnover has blown out to almost $1.7 million.

But don't worry; both Cousens and Ryan are certain the fad is close to fading.

“It probably won't last much longer now, because once it becomes a 'thing', which onesies have, these things usually fade,” explains Cousins.

Ryan, however, isn't ready to throw out her pink giraffe just yet, saying that she believes they'll stick around until at least next year.

“I mean, I think it will be around next winter,” she says, “but that's it. I think after that people will just get really sick of them.”

Oh well. Back to planking it is then.