A few weeks ago I stayed home with my boyfriend’s 9-year-old daughter, Sadie, who was sick. I was cleaning, and she found me and told me What Not to Wear was on TV.

What Not to Wear is one of my favorite programs. It’s on The Learning Channel, usually Friday nights at 9.

If you haven’t seen it, family, friends or co-workers nominate a loved one who essentially is a fashion mess. Show hosts Stacy and Clinton intercept the “victim” and offer a wardrobe makeover of $5,000 if that person agrees to go to New York for a week of style tutoring and shopping.

The catch is that the person has to hand over their current wardrobe to Stacy and Clinton, and they discard anything they deem ugly, ill-fitting, worn out or outdated.

I asked Sadie if she was going to watch the program. She said she was, so I told her I’d watch it with her. We weren’t far into the show when Sadie said to me, “I’m going to turn you in to them.”

In my own defense, I’m not a “mess.” I’m not the very most stylish person around, but hardly a mess. But I knew where the child was heading with the conversation.

I have a skirt which is a point of contention between me and Sadie, along with her 11-year-old sister, Emily. It’s a long, charcoal-gray skirt made of polar fleece. Sounds ugly, doesn’t it? It’s not all that bad, but yeah, there are prettier garments out there.

But it’s soft and comfortable, and, most importantly, warm. I call it my blanket skirt. It’s all of the warmth of a blanket, with the convenience of an elastic waist. It’s perfect for days like Monday when the wind chills were below zero.

As I write this, it’s Tuesday, and we’re getting slammed with a winter storm. One winter driving tip always given is to keep a blanket in your car. I’m a step ahead of that. I’m dressed in one.

I wear it with fashion boots and a warm sweater, and it makes an ensemble that ... makes normally lovely children become deviant.

The girls and I set out on a 45-minute drive one day, and Emily announced, “Tina, Sadie and I hid your blanket skirt.” Their deviance is still somewhat undeveloped, and Emily didn’t think ahead that she was trapped in the back seat of my car, where I keep my most effective discipline tool – my Billy Joel’s Greatest Hits CD.

“Emily, it’s a long drive. Tell me where you hid my skirt, or you’ll be listening to Billy Joel the whole way,” I said. I reminded her that the drive home was also 45 minutes long.

“It’s under the table in your room,” she immediately disclosed.

Yes, a very effective discipline tool.

It would be fun to go to New York and let Stacy and Clinton direct me on what kind of clothes to buy. Of course I want to look nice, but I want to be warm. The duo claims it’s possible to achieve both, but I can’t imagine that any garment embodies warmth quite as well as my blanket skirt.