Quality sheets may need ironing for comfort

A good night's sleep can depend on the quality of the sheets.
By JEANNINE STEIN
LOS ANGELES TIMES
I've always believed a clear conscience and a good pillow constitute the best formula for achieving quality relaxation. After a week of listening to people tout the benefits of the Egyptian cotton and smooth-as-silk weaves, I had to try them for myself.
But I had miles to go before I slept. Expensive ironed sheets are supposed to be the ultimate experience, so I took a queen set of Frette Royal Collection ivory cotton sheets (sent by the manufacturer, but which retail for a cool $480) and headed for the washing machine. They went through a delicate cycle with Woolite and a trip through the dryer on low heat.
Most good linens can tolerate washing machines on delicate settings with a mild soap such as Woolite -- but companies suggest avoiding detergents or bleach. Machine drying is fine for some types of sheets, but they should not be allowed to get really crispy, since overdrying can damage the fibers. Jerri Koplowitz, luxury bed linen buyer for Macy's West, suggests removing sheets from the dryer when they're between "fingertip damp and bone dry." They should be shaken out, and, if not ironed, should be smoothed by hand before folding.
"Cotton blooms when it's washed and dried," she adds, meaning that the fibers expand over time, which softens the sheets and reduces wrinkling. Of course, the sheets can be professionally laundered, but that can get pricey.
Pressing problem
The ironing didn't daunt me, having grown up helping my mother iron our family's all-cotton sheets, a task that sounds somewhat Dickensian but was actually a pleasant ritual we shared on weekend afternoons.
Although I still use cotton sheets, I don't spend my weekends ironing them anymore. But in the interest of journalistic inquiry, I made an exception.
I began with the flat sheet, an enormous, endless piece of fabric. I started with one corner and began pressing and pressing, and pressing. I finally reached the other end, turned the sheet around and went back the other way. When I lifted it off the ironing board there was a huge wrinkled mess in the middle that I hadn't even touched. How I wished I had a mangle, that machine that hotels use to press linens.
I did my best to iron the rest of it, then attacked the pillow shams. After half an hour and a sore back, I decided I could live with an unironed fitted sheet.
Experience
With great anticipation, I finally slipped into bed. The sheets felt cool and crisp, the words I heard again and again to describe freshly pressed cotton linens. Although they were not as hefty as the cotton sheets I was used to sleeping in, their delicateness made them softer and more luxurious. I slept extremely well.
I'm definitely hooked, although I'm not quite in the league of Sally Aminoff, a Beverly Hills, Calif., real estate agent and Frette devotee who describes her conversion this way: "It's the difference between lumpfish and caviar. I've always been drawn to beautiful linens, the sensuality of them. I love luxe. And luxury doesn't have to be fattening if you have beautiful sheets."
So, does she now consider them a luxury -- or a necessity?
"Necessity. They're definitely a necessity."