I Never Thought My Bedding Mattered That Much. I Was So Wrong.

Folded duvet with two pillows stacked on top
Photo illustration by Slate. Photo by Parachute.

Slate has relationships with various online retailers. If you buy something through our links, Slate may earn an affiliate commission. We update links when possible, but note that deals can expire and all prices are subject to change. All prices were up to date at the time of publication.

Back in December, I made an extravagant decision.

For the previous nine months, I’d been throwing myself into whatever small joys I could find, and often those brief moments of happiness were fueled by pandemic-driven FOMO. I made whipped coffee, which was, sadly, quite disgusting (at least mine was). I baked sourdough, much to the chagrin of my gluten insensitivity. I took up running, something I’d always hated, only to later replace it with a Peloton—another pandemic-fueled purchase made in hopes of salvaging what was left of my mental health. (It worked.) Eventually I noticed that despite all my joy-seeking, I still wasn’t sleeping very well—I mean, who was?—and figured it was time to start investing in my bedding.


This is where things got a bit drastic for me. Historically, I had resigned myself to picking up sheets and duvet covers at Marshalls, Target, or Amazon, and I was generally content with those options. Besides, I’d always figured that as long as I had a solid mattress, everything else was secondary. So what if my subpar comforter made me hot in the middle of the night? If I woke up sweaty, it was easy enough to kick off the duvet, right? Likewise, when I got too cold, I could just pull it back on.

But this sleepless cycle led to too many restless nights, and more important, my broken sleep fueled my anxiety and depression. I desperately needed temperature regulation and fast.


After spending a few months scouring the internet for recommendations, I landed on a percale duvet cover set from Parachute. I loved the range of colors. And when I popped into the store—another reason Parachute appealed to me, versus Brooklinen or Riley—I could tell upon feeling the percale that the fabric was sturdy, but breathable, cool, and soft. I dallied around the store and polled the two folks working about whether they slept hot, and one said they did. I asked what their favorite fabric was for addressing the issue of bed sweat. They validated my instincts that the percale would be my breathable nighttime savior—so I bought it.

When I got home, I began to worry. It seemed bigger and heavier than I’d expected, which made washing it a drag. It took forever to fully dry, and it seemed to ball up into itself more than sheets typically do. I had to stop the dryer every half-hour or so to unfurl it and expedite the drying process. Getting it onto the duvet went as expected, but by then I was frustrated.

Everything changed the moment I got under it. When I fell asleep is a blur, but I woke up feeling cool—as if it were a breezy spring morning. Even with a top sheet and the duvet’s heft, I slept through the night perfectly regulated, and for the first morning in recent memory, I woke up without feeling disgusted by sweat and exhausted from tossing and turning all night. It’s remained on my bed every night since, and each morning, I can’t imagine how I ever slept without it.

The duvet is a keeper.