I’m on Orcas Island this weekend for a wedding. I was a little late to coordinating with other guests and ended up getting a hotel room. It’s a nice little room with a TV cabinet, floral print loveseat, and very fitting maritime art on the walls. It also has a king size bed and some lovely white sheets. This is where white sheets belong: in hotel rooms. White sheets are clean, calm, and serene, but they’re also sterile. They’re meant to be bleached and spotless. If they have so much as a spot on them then they are tainted and impure. Now, it isn’t lost on me that I am a man writing this opinion and men are known for having dirty, unwashed sheets. But the reason I don’t like white sheets at home isn’t because I want an excuse to be filthy—no man needs one—it’s because white sheets on your bed are a wasted opportunity to add a little more color into your life. These days, I’m sleeping on a very lovely set of dusty rose linen sheets and I never get into my bed feeling like I’m staying at the Marriott.
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I made the switch to (non white) linen sheets about 10 years ago and they really are such a treat every night.