Bring Back The Slumber Party

There are a few things that instantly take me right back to middle school, despite being in my — don’t make me say it — late 20s. This includes catching a random whiff of Juicy Couture’s Viva La Juicy perfume on the street, or hearing “Good Girls Go Bad” (s/o Leighton Meester) echo through the aisles of TJ Maxx. Or, honestly, that oddly specific ache of not being invited somewhere — even though, let’s be real, I probably wanted to stay inside anyway.

Nothing, however, makes me feel more connected to my youth than having a sleepover at a friend’s place.

Now, it’s not like my social calendar is chock-full of slumber parties. But I’m not the only one feeling the nostalgia. TikToks about adult slumber parties are going viral. In one video, three women wear matching pink, feather-trimmed pajamas while making heart-shaped pizzas, arranging bouquets, jumping on a bed, and applying face masks. “This is what I need honestly,” one commenter wrote. Another clip has a voiceover that says, “Can we please normalize adult sleepovers?”

After seeing adult slumber parties all over my FYP, I went ahead and took the initiative. I texted my friend Sarah, who has loved me through every bad ex and bad haircut since 2008. “We need to have a sleepover,” I wrote. “Like old times.”

Old times looked like this: We were 13, doubled over with that kind of vomit-inducing laughter, playing Headbands with names of our middle school classmates stuck to our foreheads. We fantasized about a beach trip for the next morning, and each other’s weddings 15 years down the line. We braided each other’s hair and asked, “Who do you think will lose their virginity first?” And somewhere in between prank-calling our crushes and watching Heathers in our pajamas, we grew up.

It’s been a while since life has been so carefree. Now, trying to hang out looks like this: “Oof! I forgot I have Marty’s parents’ anniversary dinner. Can we raincheck?” Or, “Something popped up at work — can we move this tapas reservation to Q1 of 2026? Sorry, LOVE YOU XO.” Every get-together has to compete with the never-ending commitments of adulthood.

Slumber parties are a way to fight that by spending quality time together, says Jess, 30. She laughs when I tell her that these gatherings are in — because for her Philadelphia-based friend group, they were never really out.

Despite being at different stages in life — some are renting in cities, others have bought homes in suburbia, a few have kids — they still have slumber parties, just like they did in fifth grade.

Their sleepovers are proof of that old adage that the more things change, the more they stay the same. “We still stay up the whole night talking — except, you know, now we have partners and businesses and stuff,” she says. They play Pride and Prejudice and She’s the Man and swoon over Channing Tatum circa 2006. “Except now,” she says, “there are bottles of wine to be had.”

The location of the sleepover rotates between the five core friends’ homes, and they try to do it every couple of weeks. It works because they prioritize their all-night hangouts in their living rooms, she says, and those with kids either host after bedtime or have their co-parent handle the nighttime routine solo.

They take turns cooking for one another, swapping book recs, and feeling like preteens again.

Partners are not allowed. “I’ll jokingly tell my girlfriend, ‘Guess you’ll have to make other plans for the night!’” says Jess, who hosts her friends on air mattresses and couches instead of in her bedroom to keep the hangouts sacred. They take turns cooking for one another, swapping book recs, and feeling like preteens again.

“Slumber parties prove that you don’t have to lose the parts of being a child just because you’re getting older,” Jess says. Aging doesn’t mean you have to grow up.

For Ivana, 30, slumber parties are a bit more impromptu. “They usually start by me being like, ‘Hey! Don’t call an Uber! Stay with me,” she says. They’re a cheaper alternative to continuing a night’s fun, and sidestep the need to play DD or call a car.

She and her friends will borrow each other’s skin care products and old, ratty college shirts. “It’s intimate, you know?” she says of letting someone stay in your space.

Lauren, 26, intentionally curates slumber party vibes with her roommates every time they break out the popcorn or moscato. She has a partner but chose to move in with her friends because she sees it as a crucial 20-something experience. They watch horror movies and trashy reality TV, make Shirley Temples, eat ice cream, and stay up all hours of the night, settling into a rhythm they can see themselves keeping for years.

And sure, life’s creeping in — people move, schedules fill up — but as Jess puts it, their sleepover era isn’t going anywhere. “We’ll be doing adult sleepovers for a long, long time,” Lauren says.

I like to think the same will be true for me. Sarah texted back almost immediately to say she couldn’t wait, and we assembled a group. Sitting on the floor of Sarah’s new home, one friend recounted her Hinge debacles and another told us she had just broken up with her boyfriend of seven years. Sarah breastfed her baby, who will probably grow up to have their own sleepovers someday, just like we did.

I’m glad our old games of MASH got it wrong. I’m not destined to live in a shack with Dustin from the seventh grade. I’m supposed to be right here, surrounded by my non-blood-related sisters, half-empty wine glasses, and the kind of laughter that only comes from being known by each other for decades — and for many more to come.