Clothes don't make the (wo)man . . .

I opened my eyes following a little power snooze during Dr. Oz today and was startled into laughter by my own attire. Yes, I laughed out loud. Bear in mind that this show airs between one and two on weekday afternoons and that most civilized folk are fully dressed at this hour in clothing they wouldn’t mind being seen in by all and sundry. Now understand that I am a happily retired woman over 55 whose spouse is at work and who occasionally chooses to remain in comfy clothes until Julie returns at 5:45 p.m.

What if someone comes to the door you ask? I hide. Yes, hide. I keep all the doors locked anyway. I pretend not to be here. The dogs will bark obligingly, but I will not come to the door.

Comfy clothes sometimes means not very many clothes. (Fake blush.) Hey! It’s my home, my fortress, my domain. On major cleaning days it makes little sense for me to get up, get dressed, get myself and clothes all dirty, then shower and change. So I do housework in my nightgown. Or less.

Okay, okay. Mostly I do this on the second floor only where there are no windows without shades or curtains. Relax. The cats and dogs don’t care, so why should you? For the first floor tasks, I will don a t-shirt and yoga pants. And sometimes I’ll even coordinate them if I know the UPS man is coming or I’ve called for someone to come fix the front door lever assembly.

Many days, however, when no such interruptions are expected, I grab what’s closest with little or no regard for anything except its warmth and coverage value. And that’s what cracked me up when I opened my eyes from my little nap earlier. I was wearing my grey t-shirt with the screen-printed aqua, red, lime green, coral, black and yellow Travel Tarts in Mexico logo; a pair of fuzzy fleece pj pants in a lovely pea-green and black check with little dogs all over, and my eggplant-hued slippers. As if that were not a sufficiently rude assault on the eyes, I was wrapped in my silky faux-leopard throw. I looked like Frenchy’s had mated with Animal Kingdom.

People who know me well don’t drop by unannounced. They know better. You can try it, but I won’t answer. I’ll be upstairs laughing at my get-up.