Sheets for the rest of us

Recently – in the year 2021, while we were 18 months into a global pandemic and just decades away from the end of civilization due to man-made climate change – I went on a mini Instagram rant about how hard it was to find decent plain white sheets. I didn’t want to spend $250 and make some heirloom investment; I didn’t want to spend $19 on sweaty college kid polyester; I wanted to spend $50-$60 and just replace some basic bedding like the busy and practical and incredibly powerful middle-aged woman I am. The four things I’ll always pay more for are shoes, bras, towels, and bedding because you feel that benefit every single day, but some days you just need a job done. I realize this website is named “Affluent Detritus” but sometimes you just need solid and dependable, not fancy.

For years we had higher thread count, more expensive sheets but they eventually ripped, so I grabbed an Opalhouse set at Target one day and my husband and I both fell in love with them. They were $40 percale sheets, so a lower thread count but felt crisper, like nice hotel sheets, and apparently that’s what we prefer. We LOVED these sheets, so much that I proselytized about them to all our friends. (Seriously like ten friends now own these sheets — shout out to my Sheet Hive). A year later I even bought a backup set, only to discover they looked the same but felt rougher. Somebody somewhere along the supply chain cut some corners and it shows. We still use them, but they’re not as nice as the original set. Nothing gold can stay. Weep for us, etc.

So I wanted a set of plain white sheets, ideally ones that would be crisp for warmer months but usable all year long. I wasn’t in the mood to go on a sheet odyssey and spent hours researching Boll & Branch or Brooklinen or anything at that level; sometimes you’re up for a quest but this was not one of those days. I wanted to tick a box and move on with my life. So I moaned about it on Instagram and several lovely people sent suggestions. I narrowed it down to two options, one from Sam’s Club and one from Target (but only available online). This was really breaking my rule of not being able to touch bedding before I bought it, but god knows I’ve broken that rule a million times about candles, and also I was in a hurry and knew I could make returns, so I ordered both.

Target was the immediate winner with this set from California Design Den:

These are the basic definition of sheets, which is not a slight — they fill the exact box I needed. They’re white, they’re crisp, they’re nice, you don’t notice anything about them, they stay on the bed and you sleep on them and don’t have to think about them until you wash them. It’s like the Richard Scarry platonic ideal of a white sheet, minus the quilt and bunny slippers and Little Bear in striped pajamas. I paid $45 (but they’re on sale right now for $35) which is even better than what I wanted! Dare to dream, Sarah. They’re great basic sheets for yourself or summer or a guest bedroom, or just any place you don’t have specific mewling soft underbelly sheet goals or needs.

If you prefer a less crisp, more sateen sheet, we also own these and I like them a lot:

They’re from Casaluna, Target’s high-range brand. They were $85 and I don’t regret paying it. These are not crisp; they’re soft and smooth. They are possibly too soft for my husband, who attended English boarding schools and believes he needs to be punished even while sleeping. Are they cooling? Not especially, but they’re not hot. I own pajama pants made from Lyocell that are cool to the touch, but I don’t know if I buy any cooling bedding or pillow claims. (I’ve never tried a fancy cooling mattress but I’m a skeptic.) We own cool-touch pillows and they’re nice pillows, but the minute you put a protector and then a pillowcase over them, you nullify that claim. These are soft comforting sheets and the blue color is soothing. Again, the world is on fire and I prefer not to have to overthink this.

Maybe one lonely winter day I’ll put on a cloak and ask an old man in a cave for a sword and start out on my Expensive Sheet Journey, and when I do I’ll be sure to bring you all with me like a merry band of late-capitalism crusaders, but right now I’m happy with my dependable, not-very-affluent bedding. I will burn my $85 candles in the room with my $40 sheets and be perfectly satisfied.