I doubt if any real people ever wear them.
Lots of us in Maine wear onesies in the winter. Though we’ve always called them Longhandles. As far as I know they don’t come imprinted with pizzas or pineapples, unless you get too heavy into the Allen’s Coffee Brandy and you have slippage. Wearing 'em to town unadorned is a bit fashion-forward for me, unless they’re covered with green wool pants and a buffalo-plaid shirt.
tch! tch! No more than can be expected from a bunch of Maine backwoodsmen… like a bunch of Teletubbies. 
I’m with you on this one Siren… 110%[size=150] ![/size]
I see them Teletubbies once-a time, when I was waitin in the commuter room at Heathrow for a flight to Aberdeen so I could go fishin. They was playin on a TV mounted up on the wall, and I thought I never see nawthin like that since the 1960s, when we wan’t over-particular about the aftereffects of the mushrooms we was eatin.
I looked around the waitin room to see who was watchin and who wan’t, expecting every little cherub face to be a-starin up there transfixed, but them kids had better things to do with their lives, I guess, like read their little books and strangle their little sisters. But them travelin businessmen and -women, who a body’d expect to be sittin there practicin their stiff upper lips and readin the Times like Rupert Murdoch hadn’t got holt of it and ruined it . . . Why every single one of ‘em was a-starin at that TV, laughin’ at them little gnomes capering around in their dayglo longjohns until the tears come out their eyes.
I says to myself, Hard to b’lieve them’s the same folks as faced down Hitler.
I’ve had a real good chuckle reading 
[size=150]^[/size], and watching the, ‘Bert and I’ vids. They’re so redolent of a good few of the variations of Lancashire dialect.
In the 80s, I came across a Lancashire dialect poet called Sam Fitton. Two of his poems I fell in love with straight away. You might like them.
allpoetry.com/Eawr-Sarahs-Getten-A-Chap
youtube.com/watch?v=se4hVBE2lUM
allpoetry.com/My-Owd-Case-Clock
Hop es y’ like ‘em
Vic 
PS if the above appeals, you might enjoy:
lancashirecottoncartoons.com
gerald-massey.org.uk/Lancashire% … tton_1.htm
Good stuff, that. You can almost see a sly Lancashire finger laid alongside a knowing nose.
But Mainers are more West Country than northcountry. Most of Maine’s original English settlers were fishermen from Devon, primarily Bristol and, like my family, Dartmouth. Some years ago I attended a family reunion on the Maine island where they first settled, and sat at dinner with a retired Dartmouth netmaker from whom I’m at least 12 generations removed, and you could have set him down at the dinner table between my grandfather and his brother, and passed him the peas without batting an eye, thinking only that a fresh great-uncle had dropped from the sky. Except that he talked like Long John Silver. “Arrrrrrr, deese Americans be curious creat’res, a-eatin’ of their cheese before dinner proper’s even serv-ed.”
Maine got its second tranche of settlers after the French and Indian wars, when the English sent Irish colonizers into the dangerous lands, to see if they survived. They did, and their accents mingled with the remaining Devonians produced, apparently, our peculiar speech patterns–quite different from them Masshole Puritans to our south.
/size ↩︎
urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=masshole 
8) 
yeah! that’s wot I thought! Luvit! Luvit!!
I love dialectal speech, I could listen to it all day long, but unfortunately, Manchester and Stockport are dialect deserts. We Mancunians have our Manc accent. But once you move out from the city boundaries into Lancashire propper, there is a blooming tropical paradise of dialectical speech. Manchester is surrounded by numerous old ‘Mill Towns’, the sad legacy of the now defunct Lancashire cotton spinning industry. Ah well… c’est la vie… eh?
Take care
Vic
If your character is from the same background as you, why not have your character say what you would say?
Good question 
I guess I feel I might be un-typical and people will think he is a slob 
Loungers and tracky bottoms are different species. Loungers are a less robust, more delicate version of TBs, if you like to think of them that way.
Just say: Bond, donned his loungers. Conjures up cathedral bells ringing… bond-dond-bond-dond
[size=85]Don \Don, v. t. [imp. & p. p. Donned; p. pr. & vb. n.
Donning.] [Do + on; – opposed to doff. See Do, v. t.,
7.]
To put on; to dress in; to invest one’s self with.
[1913 Webster]
Should I don this robe and trouble you. --Shak.
[1913 Webster]
At night, or in the rain,
He dons a surcoat which he doffs at morn. --Emerson.
[1913 Webster]
[/size]
Should warn you that the term also carries ‘class’ associations. Whilst the term is now commonly used across class groupings, it is still regarded as ‘tasteless’ among many Australians. I mention it in case you are wanting something to be related by a ‘more sophisticated’ character. Avoid it to avoid lowering the tone. I think an old term to describe its use would be ‘common’.
Cheers from down under.
I have two reasons for maintaining my claim for trakky daks (for the hypothetical case where saoir decides to change the nationality of the character to Australian).
Reason 1
I don’t believe that “class” appropriately describes Australian cultural differences any more. While income may discriminate more accurately than class, I suspect “education” might now be an even better proxy for culture. However, even if we accept class as signifier of culture, sadly “upper class” no longer connotes “taste” or “sophistication”. Have you been to South Yarra (Vic) or Mosman (NSW) recently? More trakky daks there than in both sets of Western Suburbs combined.
Reason 2
Saoir is describing trakky daks, tracksuit pants, tracksuit bottoms, sweatpants, joggers, etc. By definition, these are comfy but daggy* - hence unlikely to be worn by an upper class Australian of taste and sophistication… :mrgreen:
Translations for those from other than the Land of the Dreaming:
“comfy” = comfortable (not just an Australianism, but the L&L forums are broad)
“daggy” = scruffy, unfashionable, like a dag*
the literal meaning of “dag” is the wool on a sheep’s rear end when it is matted with with dung. Amongst Australian friends*, “dag” is a term of endearment.
***Don’t use this term with people you don’t know. Especially in Darwin.
Whatever happened to dressing for dinner in the jungle?
1 Like
I solved this problem in my book, as the characters never go home 
JWhitten
What is this nonsense about changing clothes? No one I know changes clothes when they go home except the sensible ones that shuck their shoes and slip on slippers.
Gardening, now, that’s another matter. For that they put on ancient boots, long-sleeved ancient things and leg-covering things so the nettles and brambles can’t get them.
Kids in school uniforms? Office workers who have/are pressured to wear restrictive suits, or in some cases pantyhose/shapewear? Mechanics, landscapers, construction workers, and anyone who works up a sweat or gets filthy doing their jobs? Exotic dancers? Just off the top of my head, I’d say a lot of people with those jobs have a different work/home wardrobe.
I mean, Mr. Rogers changed out his shoes, swapped his jacket for a cardigan… and I think got rid of his tie when he came in from “outside” to his “home”. Why would he have done that if it was such an unusual idea to change out of work clothes when you got home?
I work in a climate-controlled office most days, and when I get home, I swap out my chinos, button-down shirt, and nicer dress shoes for shorts, whimsical print t-shirt, and sandals in the summer. Even in the winter, I don’t want to stain my work clothes if I’m cooking that night, so usually end changing to a hoodie and jeans.
Okaaay. What about work clothes and home clothes? Which for a truly traditional Englishman would include a holey cardigan and some ancient corduroys, and a ragged old Viyella shirt, and maybe brothel-creepers. Or slippers. But more modern types would be sharper, of course.
After COVID hit I know people in Europe, Canada and other places who completely change their clothes and put them into the wash after getting home then take a shower. All this to protect themselves from getting infected.
Office work has gotten a lot more casual since Mr. Rogers’ day, at least in most US workplaces. There would be no need to bother changing out of “business casual” clothes when one got home.
Appropriate wear is very location and industry-dependent, though. A banker or lawyer in New York is probably still wearing the most expensive suit he can afford, while a programmer in Silicon Valley might consider wearing pants at all to be a major concession.
And their families. It was (is?) quite common for people in medical fields to do this.