My husband’s nighttime attire of choice is a t-shirt and nothing else. Now you may be wincing already, and I’ll concede that the t-only look is the equivalent of a dude doing it with his athletic socks on. I will also disclose that during our first sleepovers, when after hot kitchen sex, he scampered to the bedroom, donned a well-worn, California Raisin’s T and hopped in the sac, I was taken aback. Okay, slightly disturbed. I teased him, to which he elucidated that commando, or with just bottoms on, he overheats, sweats, and then wakes up cold. “Just a shirt is the perfect amount of warmth,” he said and concluded with something like, “Deal with it.” Funnily enough, my man knew the secret to a risky fashion choice—confidence. Just as he proudly shaves his balding head, he, too, sports the eff-it, t-only. And I’ve never looked back.

However, I was chatting with a girlfriend the other day who told me her man was giving her shit for less-than-sexy pajamas. Which made me wonder if my own sleepwear (as of late, a pale pink, polyester, 60’s nightgown that belonged to my grandmother) is perhaps a turn off? Granted my man may not love this look of mine—it’s not exactly Kiki De Montparnasse—however given his own costume de nuit, I figure he’s not in a position to comment. Besides, I always figured it was the passionate sex that mattered. Alas, time will tell. I’ll get back to you after the honeymoon phase.