Haha Jessie - I feel your pain.
When I was unexpectedly in hospital (a lot of years ago now) I told Mr Acorn where my pretty but not overly comfortable nighties were so that he could bring them in. I told him exactly, to within inches. He couldn't find them, and brought in a very old, faded, stretched cotton jersey nightshirt. (I suspect that he simply didn't recognise the pretty nighties as something I'd wear in bed...
)
No matter though, because my Mum brought in a dressing gown of hers that was very pretty, so I could hide what was underneath.
No. When Mr Acorn arrived that afternoon he was visibly upset because I didn't look like I do at home, so I changed back to my scruffy dressing gown (which, incidentally, I still wear almost 18 years later because it's soft and I like the colours... but not if anyone else might see me.)