I hate throw pillows. What is the purpose of a pillow that costs an exorbitant amount of money and time, you can’t sleep on them, they house dust mites, and no one, outside of the inhabitants of the bedroom, ever sees them?
Bigger Time Suck Than Facebook
In the ten years I’ve dealt with decorative pillows, I have wasted approximately five hours of my life throwing them on the floor prior to going to sleep1. My wife has wasted even more time. Every morning she carefully puts each one on the bed as she rebuilds our sleep shrine. When you add in time spent procuring the pillows from department stores, surfing online, as well as consulting others getting second opinions to ensure that they complement the bedding, curtains, and bath towels, the time lost becomes immeasurable. When Jack Kevorkian’s apprentice pulls the plug on me in some nondescript hospice center, I’m sure I’ll say, “You know, I really wished I spent more time enjoying the beauty of decorative pillows. Commence the flat-lining.”
The Pillow You Can’t Sleep On
After flinging the pillow art off the bed, I uncover my trusty, run-of-the-mill K-Mart pillow and sleep. In the morning my pillow is covered in drool and the dead soldiers from my receding hairline. Apparently, decorative pillows are meant to be seen and serve no functional purpose. Any attempt to sleep on the decorative pillow results in a lecture so painful I wish I could have just slept on the hardwood floor without any pillow. The one-way conversation revolves around themes that I will douse the thing in saliva and snot while sleeping and ruin the pillow. This confuses my pragmatic approach to life that things are meant to be used for what they were designed for. Score another point for throw pillows in the “these things are beyond worthless” category.
Truly Is An Art Piece
Even if I were allowed to fall asleep on these pillows, how would I rest comfortably on one with an infinite number of large ruffles, oversized plastic buttons, and a fabric so rough that it makes 80-grit sandpaper seem like a bag of goose down?
Michael Breus Ph.D recommends “If you have a plain-old, inexpensive polyester pillow, you should be replacing it every six months” 2. Somehow throw pillows are exempt from this rule because we have had the same decorative pillows around our house since nearly the turn of the century. They spend half their life lying in the corner of a room collecting dust mites and other allergens. During the day, they are transferred to the bed where they deposit all their floor collections to the bedding. Real pillows become a harbinger for asthma and upper-respiratory infections. Might as well pack a little ebola and meningitis in the kids’ lunches and send them off to school too just ensure that everyone gets full exposure to all forms of communicable diseases.
These Things Had To Be Invented By Swingers
Who goes into your bedroom anyway? Unless you’re swinging with the pink flamingo in your front yard, no respectable human walks into your house and says “let’s see the throw pillows”. Instead, you give them the ho-hum tour of the professional grade Viking Stone, the wet bar in the basement with some super dark, microbrew ale on tap, and the lithograph Picasso near the butler pantry. No host exclaims, “you must check out my fifteen-year old decorative pillows.” Throw pillows as decoration make about as much sense as painting a mural on the airducts in the walls for your HVAC system.
I’m sure there is a greater purpose for these pillows and I’m missing it, but until I figure it out, I’ll keep on dealing with the annoyance.
If you have 2 mins, watch me go through my nightly pillow ritual,
If you are a millennial with ADHD, just watch this GIF.
15 seconds x 365 days x 10 years = 5 hours