bedjacketed

The wide luxurious mirror of her dressing table across the room reflected a pale young woman with black hair falling in waves loosely about her pink bedjacketed shoulders, critically eyeing designs of the latest fall fashions.

1950, Colleen Williams, “There Will Always Be Hope”, in Herman Dreer, editor, American Literature by Negro Authors, New York, N.Y.: The Macmillan Company, part VII (The Short Story), page 246

Look at the page showing the duvet covers. Under one design, a bedjacketed, bespectacled lady of uncertain age eats breakfast; under another, a young man apparently naked, investigates Mailer’s book about Marilyn Monroe (a racy touch, that).

1976, Angela Carter, “What the hell—it’s home!”, in New Society, page 362

When the police arrived she sat up, decently bedjacketed, and answered their questions about missing valuables.

1986, Grace Irwin, “Myself Revisited”, in Three Lives in Mine, Toronto, Ont.: Irwin Publishing, →ISBN, page 217

Books of travel and adventure were as much enjoyed as by any bedjacketed explorer, but there was also From Bapaume to Paschendaele by Philip Gibbs (which started my interest in all to do with the Great War), Thackeray’s Vanity Fair, The Guide to Music by P. A. Scholes, and a biography of Chopin.

1995, Alan Sillitoe, Life Without Armour, HarperCollinsPublishers, →ISBN, page 145