Reductio ad absurdam.
He only sees who I AM - and yes, He also sees me when I AM naked. And guess what, I look the same to Him naked or clothed, just as Adam and Eve did in the garden. Their new clothing didn’t hide their shame or their sinful souls from Him. Neither did St John the Baptist’s shabby camel hair detract a single iota from his sanctity.
It’s not about God loving me no matter what - it’s about God KNOWING who I am no matter what, and me being the same person in His eyes, for better or worse, no matter what I wear.
I’d love to be able to imagine that a snazzy new set of threads would make Him look more favourably on me, since it’s much easier to buy new clothing than reform my soul. But I cannot bring myself to think that God cares so much about clothing as we do.
As for the good folks around me, sadly, they DON’T see only my heart. And I have to live among them. THAT’S why I don’t go anywhere naked - I dress so as to neither scandalise nor be an occasion of sin to them. I doubt severely that my wearing jeans (no, they’re neither tight nor lowcut, nor ripped nor dirty, nor embroidered with offensive words) is at all an occasion of sin for anyone.