So off we went, to Macy's, or Bloomingdales, or some department store, to lie down on what seemed like a million mattresses and try to choose one that we wouldn't hate in ten years. And I guess we succeeded? Sort of? I mean, we don't exactly HATE our bed, but it's not the haven of comfort and sweet dreams for which one might hope. I think the main mistake we made was opting for a pillow-top mattress.
You see, Ted is a man of substance. I mean that both figuratively and literally. He is a gentleman and a scholar, has a strong moral compass, well-considered opinions, and a forceful, if very friendly, personality. But he is also a big guy. Not fat, exactly, but big. Stocky. Husky. A manly man with the muscular forearms of a Disney prince, and legs that put Russian weight lifters to shame. It all comes together in a very attractive package (if I do say so myself), 6 feet and 235 pounds of pure sexiness, but what I'm getting at is that his side of the bed has its work cut out for it.
So, over time, his side has formed sort of a shallow dip, if you will. We spin the mattress every now and then so that there is an equal dip on each side (I'm 5'4" and weigh about a buck twenty soaking wet), but because it's a pillow-top, we can't flip the mofo. So after almost 10 years... Well, take a look for yourself:
Tangent (sort of): something else that has always bothered me is that the box spring on our bed doesn't have a cover. I know, who cares? Guess what. I DO. A LOT. I don't spend hundreds of dollars on sheets and shams, bother to have them monogrammed, and get super sweaty making the bed just the way I like it, all so that in the end the naked box spring is sitting there on display. But the only box-spring covers I had ever seen were from places like Pottery Barn and cost upwards of $100. And that's just in-fucking-sane.
Enter Amazon. In short order, I found exactly what I needed to fix all my bed-related issues. Well, almost all of them. The rest, I hear, can be solved by reading Fifty Shades of Grey (also available at Amazon, BTW). Here is what I purchased for the box spring:
|White Box-Spring Cover, $40|
It's OK. I was too lazy to wash it before I put it on (big surprise) and it's a little loose - I have a feeling it would have shrunk a little had I washed it. But it looks a million times better than the naked box spring. And for the mattress, I found this:
And it did! Mostly! Here are the results (forgive the less-than-stellar camera work; I am still learning how to work this bad boy):
|Bed From My Side|
|Bed From Ted's Side|
Now for some more photos that don't really have anything to do with the new mattress topper, but they look pretty and highlight my monogrammed sheets, so here you go:
And while we're here, let's take a look at the bedside table and prints that hang above the lamps, shall we?:
In all seriousness, I am fully in love. If it's possible to be in love with a memory-foam mattress topper. It is like sleeping on a cloud. A cloud knit from expensive cashmere by your grandma who loved you best of all the grandchildren. This mattress topper has changed my life.
As for Ted, he's away at a cancer conference in Chicago and won't be back until Wednesday, so we'll have to wait and see if his life is also changed. I have high hopes, though. High hopes indeed. Also, he's supposed to pick me up a copy of Fifty Shades of Grey at the airport so who knows what sexy times we'll be getting up to on our new mattress topper!
I leave you with this:
I may never get out of bed again.