Snippets - Bathrobes Reign

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Bathrobes reign – make mine ratty

I like ruts sometimes – old routines, old pals, old dogs, old truths, old clothes. While “new and sometimes improved” perks us up, “old and rutty” keeps us rooted and comfortable.

At least, this is true when it comes to my ancient blue terrycloth bathrobe.

Tom Bodett – he of advertising fame – is said to have claimed: “A person needs just three things to be truly happy in this world: someone to love, something to do, and something to hope for.” I would add to that, “ . . . and a snuggly relic of a robe.”

I crawled from bed early this morning and turned up the heat to fight the winter chill, then crawled back under the covers to get cozy till the house warmed. Thirty minutes later, I ventured forth once more, anxious for that morning cup of coffee and newspaper – but not before I donned my ratty robe and fuzzy slippers.

As I was robing, hubby G-Man walked through the bathroom and glanced my way. “You know,” I said, “I love my robe ‘cause it hangs right over the heating vent and when I put it on in the morning it’s all toasty warm.”

G-Man looked at me, grimaced, and said, “I love it ‘cause it’s just so pretty.”

He did NOT mean that, because as he went off down the hall, he said, “You look like you’re wrapped in a grungy beach towel.”

Grungy?

I admit my tired but beloved robe is ragged and worn, but it’s still Crater Lake blue in spite of frequent washings. The zipper works; the little darts on the bodice are intact; and the coffee stains add character, rather like the patina on a handsome bronze sculpture. Well, maybe I’m exaggerating about the patina on a bronze sculpture. Might we say, the robe is reminiscent of an aged chenille bedspread? Yes, let’s say that.

I do realize there are finer garments on the market. The latest Euro-luxury models are plentiful in organic cotton, hemp and flax linen, not to mention soft silks and other ritzy fabrics, monogrammed and not. But these aren’t old – at least, these aren’t old like my terrycloth robe – and why climb out of a rut when you’re snug?

Several months ago I went next door and convinced my neighbor, Diane, we should go to a Miss America TV-viewing party in our bathrobes and slippers.

“When I was growing up, we always wore our robes and got comfy for the big pageant,” I told her. “Let’s do it.”

She protested. “I don’t have a decent robe I could wear in public.”

“So,” I said, “who wears bathrobes in public? This is special. And mine’s pitiful too.”

So we appeared at the party, robed and slippered, in hair curlers and nets, Noxema faced, to watch Miss Oklahoma win the crown. I couldn’t have been more comfortable if I’d been sprawled in a bubble bath.

Really, there are times when ruts are just fine.

Example? At www.cottoninc.com, information is available about trends in fabrics, new thread counts, spinning techniques and innovative designs. I read there: “It’s about how [items of clothing make] you feel that makes them luxurious and indulgent.’”

Exactly. If my old battered robe makes me feel luxurious and indulgent, why go buy a new one that itches and pulls and doesn’t cover cold flesh sufficiently?

But hopefully, folks who dig deep for marvelous new garments will one day find them hanging still on their bathroom doors over the heating vent with intact zippers, buttons and seams, and perhaps these robes will be as comfy as my old blue one.

An anonymous sage once said, “The great advantage of being in a rut is that when one is in a rut, one knows exactly where one is."

Yep, I'm sitting right here at the computer, warm as toast in my Crater Blue grungy wrap, happy as a lark -- exactly where I want to be. Here's hoping this luxurious rut is yours also. Cheers!

[Write: bethjacks@hotmail.com ]