The thing about being married for a really long time is that standards become really low.
I used to dress up just for my husband. He used to pretend that he wasn’t a human fart factory.
Now if I put any clothes on at all I’m the sexiest thing alive. They don’t need to be cute or even flattering, as long as they are not sweatpants.
I like it better this way. Less work all the way around.