When most people mentally scan through the eras of their life, they probably divide everything by major events. Marriages. Births. Heartbreaks. Lovers. Graduations. When I close my eyes, though, and think of a year, an age, the first thing I usually see (or the thing I can see the clearest, at least) is my bed. Or beds, I guess. I can instantly recall the various, tiny corners of the world that I’ve called home and the coziest spot I created in each of them. For those who know me, this probably won’t come as a surprise, as a bed, at its core, is the perfect intersection of two of my greatest passions in life: Creating a space that feels like my own, and being cozy.
When I think of being four or five, I can still see the green-and-pink floral blanket that sat atop my childhood bed, a single, vintage wrought iron frame that I’m trying to find a place for in my own home now. When I think of being a pre-teen, I remember my absolute obsession with an Isaac Mizrahi x Target comforter that featured a gigantic, photo realistic orange-and-yellow flower, which you can see below (absolutely delighted I was able to find a photo of this one online, by the way — and yes, I had the striped pillow cases, too).
Shortly after, there was a hand-me-down, ‘90s floral comforter that I brought with me to my college dorm room (I have personal photos of that one for you). I thought it went perfectly with a plaid, burgundy flannel sheet set that I found stuffed in my parents’ linen closet. The fact that I was going to college in Gainesville, Florida, a place where humidity is more a general state of existence than a meteorological phenomenon didn’t seem to faze me. Besides, it went perfectly with my Garden State poster (not pictured, but trust me — it was there).
For my second year of college, I studied abroad in the Netherlands, and I bought the cutest duvet cover and comforter I could find at IKEA the very first week I was there. It was also (surprise!) floral, impossibly cheap, impossibly soft, and one of the first things that made me feel at home in a place where I knew exactly zero people. I didn’t know then that I would stay in that dorm for an entire year, listening to music (I still have the exact playlists saved), and drinking wine and taking photos of it all. I think of that tiny bed now and I can still remember being there and feeling like I had no idea what I was doing and also like I never wanted to leave (I did try to stay, actually, but that’s a story for another day…). Sometimes I think of that time and I can’t even really access it, like it all happened to someone else. But I look at the photo below, remember how that tiny bed felt, and I’m right there again. (Listen, I know everyone studies abroad and it changes their life and they won’t shut up about it for decades, but it’s true, ok? It’s true.)
I turned 20 in that Utrecht dorm room (where I’m sure that bottle of Advil remained for most of my time there), and in the years that followed, I moved back to finish my degree in Florida, then graduated and moved to New York. I can picture those years, too, those beds. My first apartment in New York was so small that Jake and I had to demolish the full size bed frame (also, of course, from IKEA) when we moved out — I had assembled it in the room and the space was so tiny that there was no other way to get it out the door. Those years were mostly filled with cheap, bright white duvet covers, the occasional light blue linen set thrown in there. Looking back, I guess it’s kind of a miracle I moved out of the floral phase, but it also makes sense. For most of my 20s, I lived in huge cities. I’m sure the last thing I wanted at the end of every day was more noise, more pattern. Even now, living in as rural of a place as I’ve ever lived, I look forward to getting into my bed every night, complete with a white duvet cover. This time, though, for the first time in my life, I’ve actually, finally invested in nice bedding — the good stuff.
When we moved into our current house, I knew that a lot of things were going to be in a state of flux and renovation for a long time. Jake and I decided to tackle the bedroom first — even if we couldn’t buy the perfect furniture, yet, or design it exactly the way it wanted, we would cover the basics. We would have a space that felt fresh and new. We painted, installed a new ceiling light, and refinished the floors in only that room even though we couldn’t afford to do the rest of the house yet. And then there was the bedding. No matter what, I told myself that for my 30th birthday, I would invest in the bed I’d always dreamt of. The cloud-like mattress topper I’d fantasized about. The linen duvet cover of my dreams. The cotton sheet set that felt like something I’d find in a 5-star hotel. No matter what, at the end of every day, this would be the thing we could go back to, even if everything else was in a state of total chaos. Initially, I felt guilty directly after the purchase, knowing that I could have spent the money elsewhere, on ‘more important’ things — that I should have, maybe. But but when the packages arrived and I put the whole thing together, I knew immediately that I had made the right choice. It was one of the biggest splurges I had made in my adult life (this is not sponsored at all, by the way), and it felt… good. Great. Special.
I mean, look, the truth is that, usually, I can talk myself into most small purchases. An outfit here and there. An extra glass of wine. A spontaneous dinner out. Even bigger things, when it comes to experiences, aren’t that hard for me to get my head around, either. Travel and concerts are things that always seem worth it to me, for example, even if my savings account may disagree. But there’s something about home goods that sometimes gives me pause. I start to go down the rabbit hole of: Why spend so much money on this one thing if everything else is in a state of disarray? Why bother if it won’t look perfect in the room, because I can’t buy the exact furniture I want right now? What’s the point of that at all? My MO is finding one thing I love for a space and feeling like it isn’t worth buying unless I can have everything else look exactly the way I want it to look, too. If I zoom out, I’m like this with more things than just home decor. I’m like that with myself, too. Why buy this dress now if I could wait until I was thinner? Wouldn’t it be more worth it then? Wouldn’t it be more satisfying? I can’t tell you how many things I’ve dodged entirely because I was convinced they’d be more satisfying when everything else was just so.
The house isn’t perfect and the room isn’t either, but the bed? The bed kind of is. Not because it looks a certain way, but because of how it feels. How I feel every night getting under the covers, thankful that I finally invested in this thing that I enjoy and appreciate so much instead of waiting. It feels like a tiny (or not so tiny, considering the amount of time we all spend sleeping every day), recurring moment of self-care that I can appreciate every single day. An investment in coziness, if you will. I’m not saying that everyone should go out and buy all new bedding (or that everyone has the financial ability to do that, of course), but I do think that if there’s something that you can use every single day that will also make you feel special, or pampered, or taken care of, then it’s worth at least considering treating yourself to it, or planning for it, at the very least, not delaying investing in it unnecessarily — whether everything else is ‘just so’ or not.
If the subject of ‘investing in coziness’ appeals to you, then join me over in my paid subscriber weekly mini pod this week, where I’ll be talking about:
My whole bedding breakdown — where I shopped and why, which products I chose and why (and which were the most worth it), plus information about my all-time favorite pillows and the pet hair mini vacuum that I use to freshen up the bed every day (white bed, not-white dog problems).
More everyday household items that I dream about upgrading and investing in, and why.
Three less-than-$50 items that have made my everyday life feel easier, better, or more well-organized.
A portion of September’s subscriber proceeds will go toward fulfilling a public school teacher’s Amazon Wish List. Consider joining me in purchasing school supplies for her classroom by shopping the list here.
I love all of this, Olivia! I am a new paid subscriber after being a free subscriber for a while - I cannot for the life of me find where the paid subscriber weekly mini pod for this is? Would love to know more about the bedding breakdown etc! Thank you!
I’ve also moved away from patterned bedding for the first time in my life - for my new flat I bought two matching sets of sheet/ duvet cover/ pillowcases, in ‘antique cold’ and ‘rose pink’, and then a gorgeous patchwork quilt I’ve put over the foot of the bed. As I haven’t yet been able to unpack properly or shelve my books, this has been a really huge part of making the new flat feel like MY space.