In Defence Of Sleeping Naked

Words: Alexia Valentina Ureña 

Make it stand out

It’s all done delicately. A hot shower where I make sudsy shapes on my chest. Steam doodles on the glass for the next bather to see. Shock myself with a rush of cold water before a terrycloth embrace. Trace the length of my body as I moisturise, a moment for every crevice. The face routine is all the more gentle, from cleanse to cream with a prayer that any growing spots will fade off in the night. After twisting my hair into two braids that flop freely, the commitment to beauty ends. In my room, I strip off my pajamas and it’s time for my favourite part: Sleeping entirely naked. 

I started almost a decade ago. Following entry-level commando in my flimsy sleep slips, I realised there was no real reason to have underwear on overnight. The evolution was natural, I actually didn’t need to wear anything at all. Between the smooth sensation of soft skin on sheets, the subtle arousal of the Eyes Wide Shut-esque fall of my pajamas, and the satisfaction of a full body stretch with no fabric restrictions, there was no turning back. I was a convert. A nighttime nudist.

While the mere sensation is convincing enough, research has shown that there are genuine health benefits to the practice. Your body temperature plays a key role in how quickly you fall asleep and how deeply you doze off. Tucking into bed in pajamas can take a bit of tossing and tugging to get yourself and your clothes into the perfect position, by then you’ve already worked up a sweat. I have been there countless times, overwhelmed by the shorts that bunch up in all the wrong places or the hoodie that threatens to suffocate you. By eliminating that pesky layer of clothing, your body will cool and give you a smooth transition into sleep. The trouble is, you may sleep deeper than you’d like. Alex Fener, Associate Social Media Editor at Homme Girls, tells me she finds it, “impossible to wake up on time if I slept naked.”   ___STEADY_PAYWALL___

It’s an odd time (frankly, a terrible time) for confidence and beauty. The body-posi days of the 2010s are long gone, replaced with weight-loss pills, looksmaxxing, sexlessness, and anxiety. Intense routines like the morning shed - in which people unload a pile of products like chin straps, face masks, mouth tape, and more - flood my feed and send shivers down my spine. It’s one thing if the measures are practical. Fener, for instance, uses a nose strip and mouth tape to ease airflow through her deviated septum. The routines that went viral in the shed’s heyday were another thing altogether. My morbid prayer is that it’s all done for views, but the message it sends is depressing nonetheless. 

“Sleeping nude allows me to wake up with a distinct level of freshness. I open my eyes to my unaltered self, the base I can always come home to.”

For model and creative Madeline Jaye, her nightly ritual sets her up for success the following day. “I almost see it as witchcraft. Glamour magic the girls are saying. The more I pour into myself I will receive in another aspect of life—and maybe that’s waking up with a moisturised face, plucked eyebrows, and a fresh fake tan.” 

There is, however, a fine line between self-care and desperate measures, “when it overrides being present in another sense of your life or you’re masking the routine of it all by not being content with your appearance. You must know your ten steps will never fill the void inside you,” says Jaye. 

Your precious resting hours should be for replenishing, not punishing. What you wear, or don’t wear, can make all the difference. Clarisa Osio, founder of Nuisette, a brand that specialises in cotton nighties, finds that, “there’s something that feels very confident about getting dressed for yourself even when nobody else is watching.” 

Intention is key, how will you see yourself when you wake up in the morning? The big, ratty t-shirt has never failed me, I can admit that, but it hasn’t necessarily served me either. For Osio “My sisters and I always say our favourite part isn’t even falling asleep in them [the nighties], it’s waking up in them. Somehow it makes an ordinary morning feel a tiny bit more precious…” 

Yet, sleeping nude allows me to wake up with a distinct level of freshness. I open my eyes to my unaltered self, the base I can always come home to. 

Undoubtedly, company changes things. If you don’t live solo, or in a nudist colony, you have to exercise some consideration for others around you. This practice is a bit more precarious in a family home, for example. The aircon vents back home in Miami through my bedroom, which means I have to keep my door ajar all night. Strip at your own discretion. 

Writer, actress, and comedian Mahalet Tegenu is a pajama purist. “I do not sleep naked. That would make me feel too open and unprotected. There needs to be something holding my parts together as I venture into REM.” She laughs. 

If you have someone spending the night and clothes do come off, you can reveal your skimpy sleep or save it for a later date. “If I do encounter a straight up nighttime nudist at some point I’m sure I could deal, but I would have trouble understanding it,” says Tegenu. 

For those who cling closely to control, I know what you’re thinking. “What if there’s an intruder?” “What if my house catches on fire and I have to run outside?” Let us not expect the worst for once. Take it as an experiment. Microdose surrender. Tempt fate. Keep pajamas under your pillow, hang a robe on a hook by the door. Do a practice drill if you need to. It will be just fine. You’ve spent the whole day keeping things together, this is the time to unclench. 

Stripping down marks a clear distinction between the waking work day and your private rest period. On difficult days where the world feels abrasive, when everything rubs you wrong, shedding it all at bedtime does the trick like nothing else. Table your troubles and go soft til morning. Eight hours if you can swing it. A return to self that is all for you and no one else. It’s called beauty sleep for a reason.