My apartment is cold, and what I want more than anything in the world, right now, is a onesie made with panels of magical self-heating fabric. I would never take it off: not in the shower, not when I journey into the outside world to hunt for rations, not for the nocturnal mating call of my lovelorn man-friend, not ever.
I’m sure the heated sections could be placed more helpfully, but I guess I was going for an aesthetically pleasing effect. I realized only afterwards that I gave it a heated crotch. Ahem.