98. Stop Making the Bed

If it’s good enough to get out of, it’s good enough to get into.

—AUNT MYRNA, 1953

If an unmade bed is good enough for Ralph Lauren, it’s good enough for me.

—THE AUTHOR, 1993

There’s no question housekeeping practices have become less rigid in the past forty years. Just look at the ads for bed linens. A few years back Ralph Lauren started making a very appealing case for the unmade bed, with all the sheets, dust ruffles, pillows, duvets, spreads, and coverlets that abound in the confusion of the unmade beds in his ads. In the perfection-personified Leave It to Beaver household of the fifties, Mrs. Cleaver—and no doubt your mother and mine—would never have thought of leaving a bed unmade. And Aunt Myrna’s philosophy was thought, by our family anyway, to be close to heresy.

But now, fortunately, times have changed. Who cares if the bed is left unmade? And who is going to see it? A good friend of mine, who is a firm believer in the unmade bed, has what I think is a wonderful response to anyone who might comment on the disarray of her bed: “Oh, we’re just airing the linens.”

I’ve adopted that philosophy totally. Not only is it simpler, but now, when I get out of bed in the morning and know I don’t have to spend ten minutes making up the darn thing, it gives me the delight of feeling as though I’m getting away with a little something. It’s a treat I can carry with me throughout the day. And besides, why would anyone spend all that money buying linens from a guy named Ralph, and then cover them up?