A few winters ago, I bought a new dressing gown. Although I hadn’t planned to purchase anything, it called out to me as I walked through a store. Made of rich, deep velour, the gown was begging to be stroked.
It was only after I wore it at home and looked in the mirror that I realised I looked as if I was enveloped in a large, jade green marshmallow.
We use our sense of touch all the time, don’t we? It’s our most basic sense and found all over our bodies – in our skins.
When I wrap myself in this luxurious gown, it feels warm, cuddly and oh-so-soft against my skin. Wriggling against it, I attempt to experience its cushiony embrace against as much skin as I can. It makes me feel sensuous – well, as sensuous as a marshmallow can be!
Our sense of touch is pervasive and primitive. It’s the first sense we experience as we are born and the final sense we lose before we die. Amazing, isn’t it, how much we take this complicated network of sensory receptors and nerve signals for granted?
Do you have any clothing that relaxes you? This gown is first choice when I need comfort. Being surrounded by its embrace is soothing and I feel cosy and cosseted – just the reassurance I need when I feel vulnerable.
Even if I look like a giant marshmallow.