Gray sheets are what I'm working with now; they seemed a good midway point between white and black. They're less likely than white sheets to get all gross from being sweated on and less likely than black sheets to look like something you'd encounter in the first five minutes of a Law & Order: SVU episode. The only problem is lube. Lube will completely f*ck up your gray sheets. Buyer beware.
Red sheets remind me of my freshman-year roommate, who had red satin sheets and all this sheer red fabric draped over her bed so our dorm room looked kind of like a chintzy brothel. She now works in fashion and has a boyfriend on Wall Street. They seem to travel a lot. My personal hatred for colors (and need for a soothing, neutral-toned bedroom) means I will likely never have red sheets, but were I a bolder sort of person, I would give them a shot.
I had light blue jersey sheets for a while. They were like sleeping in a full-body T-shirt, and it was amazing. But eventually I dumped so many gin and tonics on them that they had to go. (I went through a weird drinking-in-bed-phase.) I also once had a gentleman caller who had dark blue sheets of an extremely high thread count. He was whatever, but I always slept really, really well at his place. Blue sheets: recommended.
Dark green sheets are a very popular choice among the early 20-something male set. I have probably slept on a lot of dark green sheets. They are very popular. Know what else is popular? Two and a Half Men and those orange 5-Hour Energy Shots you buy at the bodega. Yeah, exactly.
Patterned sheets can be a huge success or a spectacular failure. A bold stripe in the right room, for example, might make Martha Stewart proud. The floral sheets I grew up sleeping on, however, I never want to see again.
That old saw that you spend a third of your life in bed means you also spend a third of your life in your sheets—more if you're me, I guess. But your sheets also reflect the mood of the most personal room in your house, and something about who you are, or who you want yourself to be. Perhaps someday I'll have really adult bedding: cream sheets woven with the finest cotton, the kind I imagine Oprah sleeps in.
But for now I'm OK with the gray set I bought in multiples at Ikea. No matter how badly I mess them up, there's always a fresh set hidden in the back of my closet, and I can have a second chance for less than 20 bucks. I guess that's the thing about sheets, and love too—it doesn't matter what's going to impress other people—you just have to know what works for you.
—Written by Jessie Lochrie for HowAboutWe
What sheets do you have? Do you and your sheets of choice fit the matching explanation?
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