Hands free at last!

I love winter—the bare trees, the dipping temperatures, the way my breath hangs in the frigid air, a little puff of icy imagination.

I especially love dressing in the winter months: coats and boots, scarves and hats and mittens.

And, now, Snuggies.

For the uninitiated, Snuggies are the as-seen-on-TV, body-sized blankets that are handily equipped with sleeves. Picture a cozy contraption that looks as if your grandma’s billowing 1970s-era muumuu fornicated with your grandpa’s I’m-watching-football-with-my-eyes-closed fleece throw.

In short, it’s enormous, bulky and made expressly for the purpose of lazy winter lounging; it’s comfortable but ridiculously unfashionable.

“Write about Snuggies,” a friend implored. She was, it seemed, taken aback by their growing popularity among scenesters, this sincere adoption in a world plagued by ironic mustaches and mocking mullets.

Indeed, the Snuggie, first introduced into the American lexicon in late 2008 via a barrage of late-night infomercials, has spawned an intense pop-culture phenomenon among the Young and the Restlessly Hip.

Modern barflies host Snuggie pub crawls; there’s a Snuggie Facebook page; and in November, Weezer, the Patron Saints of Nerd Cool, started selling its own version of the blanket. The geek-worthy “Wuggie” is emblazoned with the band’s name and is available in royal blue ($30) or a “safari” zebra print ($50).

What the hell, right?

Ah, but once I, too, was a Snuggie nonbeliever. Since when was an old-fashioned blanket—a simple square of cozy fabric—no longer good enough? Why must we don an oversized, backward robe to free our hands? Do we really need to snuggle and multitask? Watch TV and knit? Cuddle and text? Lounge and raise the roof?

But then there I was, sinking into the couch, covered in sleeping cats, trying to reach for my spiked hot chocolate; it was a sad, futile attempt, as layers and layers of fabric burdened my arms.

I was trapped, I knocked over the Swiss Miss, I finally saw the Snuggie light.

There’s a reason the $19.99 Snuggie (act now and buy one get one free!) and its kin, the Slanket, the Toasty Wrap and the Cudlee, are so damn popular. The sleeved blanket is one of the greatest American inventions in recent memory—right up there with TiVo.

Stay warm, hang loose, be free.

Now I won’t be happy until the whole world is safe and Snuggie—deck your cats and dogs, blanket your toddlers, Snuggie your postal worker today. I want to see Snuggies everywhere and on everyone. Pair them with Uggs and hit up Starbucks—you’ve now got extra room to grow into that triple whip crème brûlée latte.

I plan to buy several—one in leopard print, one in hot pink, one in goes-with-everything black—and spend the rest of my winter camped out on the Barcalounger, inhaling Ritz crackers and Kraft Singles, Liz Lemon-style.

My heating bills will go down, my social skills will go disappear and my waistline will fill out. Really, is there anything more patriotic?

Revolution Snuggie!