You need a bathrobe. You need it for after you towel dry and before you put on clothes. Otherwise your skin is too moist for clothing. This plainly correct idea has caused great tension among several of my damp coworkers who, snickering, have said to me, “Um, have you heard of a towel?” Yes, I already mentioned a towel. This is for after that. I’m dealing with absolute morons here. Just the clammiest idiots I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing.
It causes me physical discomfort to imagine not making use of a bathrobe. Warm, moist legs forced into stiff, dry jeans. Damp, itchy flesh trapped beneath unforgiving cloth. The scene in Friends where Ross has to moisturize himself into leather pants. I’m shivering in distress. Do you have a discomfort fetish? Are you Catholic? Why are you punishing yourself like this? There is a better way. There are bathrobes.
This is the procedure: Shower, then towel dry, then moisturize, then bathrobe, then a minimum of ten minutes, then clothing. If you don’t moisturize, that is your burden, and you can skip that part; the procedure remains the same otherwise. This sequence allows ample time for your lotion to “soak in” before clothing is placed on top of it. Without lotion, it merely allows ample time for your skin to de-moist after having been wet. Then it is time for clothes.
Some, notably my foolish coworkers, claim that a towel completely dries one’s skin. They say that after toweling off, one feels the same amount of dry as they did before they entered the shower. Ha-ha. Those willing to accept the laws of planet Earth can only chuckle at the otherworldly imaginations of those who believe such a farce. If you want to claim your towel completely de-moists your skin, be my guest. Some people are determined to live in a lie, and you can’t save everybody. But for those of you who are willing to hear this: You need a bathrobe.
If you like to walk around naked after bathing and toweling until you’re dry, that’s fine, too. It’s arguing the same principle — that there needs to be a moment between towel and clothing (yes, even pajama-like indoor clothing) — and I envy your free spirit. But the rest of us flesh-covered prudes need a bathrobe. This is the kind that I have, not that this is a product placement post. “OMG I can’t believe you want us to spend $108 on a robe under late capitalism,” you’re saying, and I literally don’t. Do whatever you want, I don’t care. Actually, you seem obnoxious, so I’m just as happy for you to be itchy. I want you to be moist. Maybe carry around a little spray bottle so you can spritz some water down your jeans whenever you happen to get dry, since you obviously love the feeling so much. See what I care.
For everybody else: enjoy your new bathrobe. And no, I am not going to mention Harvey Weinstein.
