The Post Is The Sheet(s)!

Remember a while back when I did a post about trying to find good sheets? It was like two years ago, so I guess that means only my sister was reading my blog then. But anyway, I had this fantastic sheet set, which I loved. It was smooth and crisp, cool and soft. And, surprisingly, it was only 180 thread-count. Eventually, though, the pillow cases ripped. Then the bottom sheet ripped. And I went in search of new sheets. But try as I might, I could not find sheets that were as smooth and cool as those 180 thread count Target sheets. I kept buying higher thread counts--200, 300, 400, 600. But they all seemed rough and scratchy against my face. I tried Pima, Egyptian, sateen, damask....nothing seemed to make a difference. Some seemed softER but not soft, not silky smooth.

And no one seemed to be able to tell me how to get those truly smooth, soft sheets like the ones you'd find on your grandma's guest bed.

UNTIL YESTERDAY. Fed up on fighting over the one good pillowcase we have that meets our strict smoothness specifications, Big Daddy and I decided to do some research online. Or, rather, he fell asleep on the good pillowcase while I did the research online. And I think I finally found the answer!

PERCALE.

100% cotton percale. It's all about the weave. Not the thread count, not the type of cotton, and not the treatment of the cloth (although all of these do contribute to some extent). Mostly it's about the weave. Percale is weaving one thread over one, then under one. Sateen is weaving one thread over four threads then under one. Sateen sheets are by far the most common now. They have a lusterousness (according to the experts) and feel soft to the touch, but they have a warmness to them. If you want crisp, cool, smooth sheets, you want percale. And if you get a higher thread count percale, it will be more durable (unlike the 180 ones I had that only lasted a few years). And if you can get them with a "clean finish" or "pure finish" it means they haven't been treated with chemicals to make the wrinkle-resistant or color-fade resistant. It also means they will feel smoother sooner.

Some people like really soft sheets. But "soft" is a subjective word. New flannel is soft. Jersey is soft (think your brand new Hollister t-shirt). But neither of those are smooth or cool. They have a warmth to them. What I want is crisp and cool. Percale.

I think.

So after spending hours online trying to find percale sheets (which are surprisingly hard to find!), I finally found a couple of stores that carry them. Then I had to try to find them in a color that remotely matched my bedding (which I would classify as butter yellow/pale gold). No luck. Ivory was as close as I could come. And considering how many different shades of tan, beige, gold, mustard, yellow, and cream I've already bought in my quest for the perfect pillowcase, I am going to take a risk. I'm going to order these sheets and see if they meet my high expectations.


Stay tuned!


And, please, if you believein God at all, PRAY FOR THESE SHEETS!

Special thanks to EllenWarren for her article "Are Cool, Crisp Sheets Only a Dream?" It saved my sanity.

Intolerance for Hard Beds Finally Explained

Once upon a time there was a princess. Late one night after all her servants had gone to bed, the princess realized that she was in desperate need of some feminine hygiene products. Too lazy to put on make up, shower, and get herself into her royal shopping clothes, she left a little disheveled in her royal lounging clothes and headed out to the Royal Convenience Store. Half way there, a fierce wind blew up and a heavy rain began to fall. Having never walked to the Royal Convenience Store on her own, the princess lost her way and found herself in a dark wood. She was scared, wet, and in even worse need of feminine hygiene products than when she had left. Suddenly, through the rain, the princess spotted another castle that she had never noticed on her route the store. Even though it was late at night, the princess pounded on the front door. Soon a voice came and asked who was there. "It is I. Princess Bobette," she said. The door creaked open and an old servant eyed the princess. "You're not a princess," he told her, glancing at her royal lounging clothes that were muddy and wet and torn from her journey and her mascara that had formed large raccoon circles under her eyes. "But I AM!" the princess insisted. "Well, come in," the servant ordered. "We will treat you as a guest, whoever you are." So the princess came in and shook out her stringy wet hair. Meanwhile, the servant got his orders from the Queen of the castle to make a special bed to determine if the girl really was a princess. She had a loafer son who was stretching his bachelorhood out a lot longer than the Queen cared for, and she was hoping to get him hitched. If this girl really was a princess, maybe the two would take a liking to each other. So the servant set to work creating the bed that would show if the girl was a princess. He piled mattress upon mattress, some made of corn husks, some made of feathers, some made of fluffiest white goose down, and some made of individually pocketed springs with polyester fill and a 300 thread count quilted pillowtop. Soon the pile reached dozens of feet into the air. The servant placed a tiny hard pea between the bottom two layers as per the Queen's instructions. "This," the Queen had told him, "will tell us if she is a princess. Only a princess's skin is tender enough to feel the pea underneath all the layers of mattress."

The princess was soon called into the guest chamber. She was given some nice cotton jammies, a big stick of deodorant, a large box of tampons, and a towel for her hair. Then she was ushered to the tall ladder leaning against the very tall stack of bedding. Up she climbed, and soon she had settled in for the night.

In the morning, the Princess put on some new clothes that the Queen had ordered to be brought for her and joined the Queen and her son for breakfast. "How did you sleep, My Dear?" asked the Queen. "Not well," replied the princess. The bed was horribly uncomfortable, actually. It felt like I was sleeping on a bed set on a giant boulder! My body is all bruised this morning," she told them. And she pulled up a sleeve to demonstrate her black and blue arms. The Queen jumped to her feet and squealed with delight. "A princess!" she exclaimed. "A REAL princess! There will be a wedding. Today. Immediately!" Luckily for her, the prince and princess had been eyeing each other at the table and actually had the hots for each other. So they both agreed to the wedding. But the princess suggested that the prince might have a better wedding night if they waited about 5 or 6 days. So the wedding was postponed for a week. And the princess called her people to come and get her and bring her home. The next week she and the prince were married. And aside from having a mother in law who was always meddling in everyone's business.... the prince and princess lived happily ever...

Wait. That's not the end of this story. The story actually continues a day later when the prince and princess went to Austin, Texas on their honeymoon. They decided to stay in a Marriott Residence Inn despite the princess's previous bad experience with a regular Marriott. And to both of their delight (for the prince and princess both had the tender flesh of all royalty) the beds at the Residence in were soft and delightful to sleep on. Plus there was a free full breakfast at the hotel each day that included waffles and sausage. Score.

The moral of this story is, most of the people who stay at hotels are clearly not royalty. Big K and I, however, obviously are. Separated from our royal parents at birth somehow, I suppose. Maybe like Briar Rose, stashed in the suburbs until it's time to come forward and claim our royal heritage. At any rate, for future reference, The Residence Inn does cater to royal skin. Hooray!

Is it Just Me?

I'm starting to think maybe I might be the crazy one. I've been sleeping on a very hard mattress at my sister's house (although my niece was sweet enough to give it up so I could have it.) I'm seriously sleep deprived from tossing and turning. And you all know about us leaving our romantic getaway hotel because the bed was too hard to sleep on. Then there's our time share in Park City that we always get sleepless nights at because of the hard bed. And as I sit here and count up the number of times in my life that I've had a soft bed or even a decent bed vs a very hard, horribly hard, terribly hard bed, the hards far outnumber the softs. So am I the odd man out? Do most people, unbeknownst to me and my husband, actually like a hard bed? Maybe it's my hips, my big birthing hips. Because they get numb and sore after a few minutes of digging into a hard bed. Maybe it's that I don't sleep on my back. Or are hotels just all too cheap to spring for a nice soft mattress??? What do you guys think? Weigh in: when it comes to your ideal bed, do you prefer soft or hard?

A Bed Less Ordinary

Everyone, please tell me if you are one of the 329 million Americans who prefers to sleep on a slab of cement rather than a bed. Hands? Anyone? No? That's strange. Because the bed at my hotel this weekend would lead me to believe otherwise. The bruises on my hips and shoulders would lead me to think that most Americans actually prefer pain and discomfort as they drift in and out of sleep. No? So most of you actually like some fluff to your bed, something soft? Something, dare I say it, comfortable? A pillow top even? Or is that taking beds to an extreme amount of comfort? I only ask because 9 times out of 10 when I stay in a hotel, even a very nice, expensive hotel, I find that the beds are about like sleeping on the floor. Just with sheets. And this weekend, when Big K and I took a little romantic getaway to The Big City and stayed in a FOUR STAR HOTEL, was no exception. The pillows were feather. The furniture was rich dark wood. The bathroom had marble counter tops and a jacuzzi tub. But the bed was about like a hospital bed. Minus the mattress. Seriously, that bad. In fact, the bed was so bad that--I kid you not--we got up (I don't say "woke up" because neither of us had slept a wink yet) at 1:30 am, packed up, and WENT HOME to sleep on our own normally soft bed. That's how bad it was. So I just want to know, what is the deal? Who are these bajillions of travelers who prefer this kind of torture when they travel? Because me? I like to be able to actually sleep in my hotel. It's kind of, you know, the point. And the next day, I prefer to be able to wake up and walk without an adjustment at the chiropractor first. But maybe that's just me. Maybe I'm the odd man out. Maybe I am just expecting way too much from a bed. If so, do tell so I can stop setting myself up for disappointment with such ridiculous, frivolous expectations.

Cotton Pickin' Pillowcases!

I need your help, you guys. Here is the backstory:

So a few years ago, Big Daddy and I decided to redecorate our bedroom. By that I mean, change out the bedding and window coverings. So we bought a pale gold (maize, not metallic gold) comforter and pale yellow sheets, gold microfiber suede curtains, and dark red accent items (shams, curtain swag, etc). I bought 2 sheet sets. One was 300 thread count cotton, one was 220 thread count cotton. Then, I was at Target one day shortly thereafter, and I found some adorable sheets that were just the right shade of pale yellow and they had an embroidered border on the top sheet and pillow cases that was dark red leaves. I LOVED that pattern, and it brought in the dark red accents. But they were only 180 thread count cotton. So I passed on them. But twice more I went to Target and drooled over them. So I finally gave in and bought them.

Well, as it turns out, those 180 thread count cotton sheets have ended up being the softest, smoothest, coldest sheets of them all. You know what I mean by cold, right? When you lay your head down on cold sheets, it almost repels your body heat. There is no friction or fuzz. It's just crisp coolness. Back to my story.... How could this be? The 220 thread count set we bought are horrible. Very rough. The 300 thread count ones are OK. They're reasonable. But when we put the 180 thread count set in the wash and put on the other ones, neither of us can sleep on those pillow cases. They're just not cold and crisp and smooth enough. Only the 180 thread count ones will do.

Well, flash forward 3 years. My pillowcase got a small tear along the seam where the edge pattern meets the main pillow case. I tried to sew it up, but it tore again. And after another round through the wash, it became a huge t-shaped tear, half the length of the pillowcase and along the whole seam at the top. So it's not fixable. The cotton is just too fragile now. But none of my other pillowcases are soft enough. I've tried buying higher and higher thread count pillowcases (400 and 600), but none of them are as slick and smooth as my tattered one, not even after several washings. So what gives? There must be something other than thread count that makes cotton linens soft. Does anyone out there know? Has anyone worked at Linens 'N' Things and been made privilege to this secret information? Because it is secret. I've spent several hours on the internet trying to find an answer to this question, and all I can come up with is that some weaves are softer, some thread lengths are softer, etc., but no details. Nothing to guide me to making a fantastic pillow case replacement purchase.

HELP!

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