I wear an oversized hoodie around the house in the evenings. It's thick enough to feel cosy and large enough to trap air between my body and the rest of the air in the room. This means it feels cool in the summer and warm in the winter.
There's a moment when I slip it on and I feel the fabric on my skin (for why would I sully the hoodie by wearing a layer underneath? It is the cosy hoodie) and I raise the hood. The hood temporarily blocks my peripheral vision until I adjust it. I can feel the hood against my scalp. I smell the hoodie; it only smells of home. Of tea and the spices of last night's meal. I hear that weird woosh of fabric moving over your head and I feel the coolness of the cotton on my shoulders and chest.
I like that moment.