05 January, 2011

Life Lesson #514: Silk Sheets Aren't All *That*

When Greg brought home our first set of silk sheets, I was enamored.  But somehow, my reality doesn't come close to matching the perception of what I think silk sheets should be.  When I contemplate silk sheets, I immediately envision a scene from the movie The Holiday (a cute, if unrealistic, romantic comedy with Cameron Diaz, Kate Winslet, Jude Law, and Jack Black).  The image I see is where Kate Winslet's character has come from London to a mansion in LA and she's enjoying sleeping in an oversize bed with puffy blankets, loads and loads of pillows, and silk sheets.  It's the ultimate in decadence and pampering, the epitome of a life of leisure.  Who wouldn't want something like that?  I want something like that.

My reality is that I'm probably too plebian for silk sheets.  They seem a lot like pedicures to me.  On the surface, pedis are a relaxing treat to pamper myself.  The more significant reason for such a treat is that I have calloused feet.  I do not have smooth, silky, soft, pampered feet.  For a couple hours every 5-6 weeks, I get a soak and scrub finished with a pretty polish.  The intervening 35 to 42 days my feet are working-class marvels (that are entirely under appreciated).  And how does this apply to silk sheets, you might ask?  In more ways than one.

With silk sheets, it doesn't matter that I'm fresh from a pedicure.  My scaly, tough soles catch the fabric.  My feet will apparently never be soft enough or callous-free enough to avoid snagging the sheets.  So instead of sliding smoothly between them, I stutter and have to free my animal-hide soles from the clingy sheets.  I can tell you from experience that after a while, silk sheets tend to ball up where they've been snagging on tough soles.  And the balled-up portion detracts from my perception of how things should be (and it's less comfortable, to boot).

In addition, I'm not one to make the bed every day.  If you're lucky, I pull the blankets up to the pillows so everything's kinda straight.  Knowing that, it shouldn't bother me that the blankets slide off the bed at random times.  Sometimes it's the middle of the night and I wake up freezing, and sometimes we get home and they've gone from on the bed to somewhere beside it.  (I blame the cats and their monkey-business for that.  If they wouldn't horse around so much, they wouldn't've created the blanket avalanche caused by the unstableness of slickery sheets.) 

So now I've got silk sheets that are pill-y, I wake up cold in the middle of the night because my blankets are off the end of the bed, and I have the distasteful realization that I'm not a pampered princess (nor will I likely *ever* have the leisurely lifestyle that includes afternoon tennis - I don't even play tennis - country clubs, and martinis at 3 o'clock - if it's an appletini, otherwise I'd better stick to fruity beer).  Not really the happily-ever-after that I've worked silk sheets up to be.

I much prefer sateen.  Smooth and rich, 800 thread count, sleek and lustrous.  My blue-collar feet haven't snagged on them yet, and it's so... luxurious... especially with freshly shaved and lotioned legs...  Good thing my real sheets are just about done in the laundry!

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