Okay. Technically, I can’t miss something I wasn’t alive for when it was at its fashion peak. But frankly, I didn’t need to be born in the 40s to know that deep down in my bones, I miss that little fashion item known as THE BED JACKET.  

What the heck’s a bed jacket, you ask? If you’ve ever seen a Rita Hayworth movie where she lounges in the boudoir or taken a gander at an episode of I LOVE LUCY…you’d be familiar with THE BED JACKET. It’s a lovely and practical little jacket a lady wears over her nightgown.     Ah, the 40s. That should have been my era. Big bands, bed jackets, peignors, decolletage.  Everything about it seemed so….glamorous.  Well, except that women only washed their hair once a week because it was such time consuming an ordeal. Good for getting out of social obligations, not so good in the hygiene department. But I digress.

ANYWAY….the REASON I miss the bed jacket is that, like a lot of women, my temperature does not radiate an even 98.7 degrees throughout my body. No, much like a tri tip, there are parts of me that get cooked first, or better, than other parts.

For example, pretty much from my belly through my ankles, I’m comfortable. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s a metabolism thing or maybe it’s the  padding that seems to have settled in as a result of my weekly wine and appetizer habit. (Why is that? Why not the breasts where I need it? Damn you nature!).

Whatever. The point is, when I go to bed, the mid to lower half of my body is comfortable and longs to wear a silky nightie. However, my arms, shoulders, barely there breasts and feet… FREEZING COLD! Now, I can wear my silky nightie and throw on a pair of socks and have done with that part of it.

But my upper body?

I admit it.  I sometimes crawl into bed with my robe. But after a while it gets too hot and too cumbersome for comfort and I end up ripping it off. And then, you guessed it, my upper body plummets to arctic temps again.  

Not so much of a problem after I go to sleep, as I can pile on the blankets or siphon off Randy the Perfekt husband’s body heat (I had that written into the marriage vows).  But prior to that, while propped up on my pillow reading the blarney in FITNESS magazine which features only gravity-defying 20 year old butts on the cover or watching the latest episode of THE GOOD WIFE (how can she forgive him?! Has she NO self respect?!) I am just downright chilly.  

And there you have the reason behind my longing for the return of the bed jacket. Yeah, I know there are “versions” of it still around. But you have to hunt them down (they’re not in Target’s lingerie department) and they lack the class of the bed jackets of the past.

Okay. Okay. I admit it. If I’m really honest with myself, there might be a little of the longing for the glamour of a bygone era. When songs had lyrics like “When I want rain, I get sunny weather. I’m just as blue as the sky.” Or “You go to my head, like a sip of sparkling burgundy brew. And I find the very mention of you, like the kicker in a julep or two.”

Sigh. I guess I’ll have to settle for a Snuggie and a Starbucks.  

Rita Hayworth sans a bed jacket. But isn’t she just gorgeous?