Since the first lockdown in March 2020, I haven’t done a great deal. A couple of meals out, and a few days away at the coast when restrictions were lifted briefly.
This has meant that I don’t have to bother too much about what I wear every day. Other than taking Ollie out, and a once a week trip to the supermarket, I am usually to be found in a dressing gown. (American Translation: Bath Robe)
Not unusual for me, as I have written previously about my fondness for gown-wearing.
However, lockdowns also mean no casual visitors, nobody just ‘dropping in’, or ‘popping over’. That has allowed my gown-wearing to become the norm, unless out on the Ollie walks and shopping trips mentioned above. As soon as I get up, the gown goes on. Once back from dog-walking, I change back into a gown immediately, and spend the evening feeling relaxed and cosy. Delivery drivers and post office staff have become accustomed to me answering the door in one of the two gowns that I constantly recycle through the wash.
One is made from blue towelling, the other is a plush material in a dark red ‘Claret’ colour. Both are exceedingly comfortable to sit around in, and with the sleeves rolled up, everyday jobs like cooking and washing up can be done wearing a gown.
But all this excessive gown-wearing has had an unexpected effect.
Clothes now feel strange. Although they fit the same as before, they feel restrictive compared to the freedom of a gown. I feel bundled up in normal clothes, even very loose casual ones. I am suffering from a condition that nobody predicted might be caused by the lockdowns.
I am going to need more gowns!