Hanging-Out Clothes

I’m hanging around
In my hanging-out clothes,
The ones you won’t see
When I’m striking a pose.

I have quite a few –
They’re outdated and loose
And compliments, likely,
They’d never produce.

They might have a stain
Or be faded or ripped
Or wrinkled (for ironing’s
Surely been skipped).

And yet, they are comfy
And cozy to me.
While wearing them, I’m
As relaxed as can be.

If you ring my doorbell,
Don’t think that it’s strange
For there’ll be a delay
While I hasten to change!