Woe is me – time to retire “comfort clothes”


While we were sleeping, Spring crept in.

As usual, I bundled up like an Eskimo this morning and headed out with Lucky Dawg and Rebel on their morning constitutional.  I couldn’t believe the weather – it was warm!  And to think only six days ago we had four inches of snow on the ground.

But you know what this means.   We must reluctantly retire our “comfort clothes” – my beloved velour gray pants/pajamas that are three inches too short to be fashionable, and my big ole fleece sweat shirt that will hold two people will go into hibernation for two seasons.


My winter “at home” wardrobe has been washed so many times, it’s soft as cashmere and not nearly so scratchy.  I  keep remembering something the late Gilda Radner said – “I base my fashion taste on what doesn’t itch.”  Couldn’t have said it better myself.

A pity we can spend so little time in total comfort in favor of squeezing ourselves into uncomfortable “fashionable” things that pull, pinch, rug, choke, itch, hike up, and make us generally miserable.

Comfort clothes are every bit as good as comfort food.  In fact, I wouldn’t trade an all-expense paid vacation to gay Paree for an evening in my cozy clothes and a big bowl of macaroni and cheese.  (That may be why I can’t get into anything but my comfort clothes.)

But all good things must come to an end.  Those dark early wintry evenings in front of the fire with a good book and my comfort clothes will no longer be possible after Saturday. That’s when Day Light Savings time sets in and forces me to remain active way past seven.

When is some designer going to come up with something that will carry you from bed to garden club and no one’s the wiser.

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