Last week I somehow managed to rip apart a pillowcase in my sleep.* In my end-of-year laziness, my method of dealing with it was to substitute the case off another pillow that just gets tossed to the foot of the bed at night. So that pillow has sat, denuded, for like a week now, waiting for the day I decide to change the sheets.
(* Note to self: Perhaps Dr. Spigner is not solely profit-based in his efforts to get you to buy a night/bite guard to protect your teeth against grinding.)
Yesterday Mr. Brooks came into the room and said, “That’s gross.”
“What?” I said. “It’s an old pillow.” (And to me it wasn’t even that old: My family members tend to hold on to things with a death grip, so we have down pillows that belonged to my grandparents, for example. This one, in contrast, was maybe like eight years old.)
“It’s yellow-y.” he said. “That’s pee.”
“It is not pee,” I said. “Who pees out of their head? It’s sweat and oil” — which, as soon as I said it, sounded just about as gross.
How often was I supposed to be washing these pillows? A little research revealed every six months to one year, which was news to me: Wasn’t the whole point of a pillowcase that it’s something to wash? Apparently not — and many people also suggest using pillow protectors as an intermediary layer. (That makes sense for expensive down pillows, but not for the two-for-$14 polyester-fill ones at Costco.)
Last year I bought a couple of down pillows from Ikea in varying “fills” as part of an experiment to see which one worked best. Maybe as part of the new year, I should toss my old poly-fill pillows and replace with fresh new ones — and take more care to freshen them up, too. When’s the last time you washed yours?
|WHAT SAM WORE: 1-5-10|
|The sweater: Long-sleeved cotton crewneck by Pure Stuff, from Last Chance.|
|The pants: Classic fit, Harper wash jeans by Joe’s Jeans, on sale at Nordstrom.|
|The shoes: Leather trainers by Puma, from Last Chance.