No one ever said that making a bed was easy. And I am not talking about the daily straightening and rearranging of the sheets and fluffing of the pillows or the frequent task of changing the sheets and pillow slips. Really "making" a bed into a comfortable, gorgeous place to lie down actually takes quite a bit of designing, careful craftsmanship, some excellent fabrics, beautiful linens, and common sense.
First, start with the bed. If it's a platform or a simple legged frame with no headboard or footboard, all one needs is a bed skirt, linens, possibly a coverlet, and lots of pillows. If it's a water bed (and yes, I have had some experience with those, though I never owned one), much of this won't apply because canopies, special mattress and box spring covers, and bed skirts aren't necessary for the typical water bed -- or army cot or hammock for that matter.
When I bought Skylands, my house in Maine, 10 years ago, every bedroom was furnished with twin beds. It was odd that the former owners had never upgraded to the queen- or king-size beds that are commonly used today. The twin beds were dwarfed by the large, graciously proportioned rooms.
I was able to find six special four-poster queen-size bedsteads in North Carolina and then ordered my favorite Charles H. Beckley mattresses and box springs -- firm. I stretched white cotton voile across the top frames of the beds and installed taffeta bed skirts on some. I vowed to dress the beds properly in the near future.
All the linens had been left in the house when it was transferred to me, but unfortunately the sheets, like the beds, were all twin-size. So I ordered white linen fitted and flat sheets and white linen duvet covers, which I filled with light down comforters (made of two existing twin duvets sewn together -- a show of frugality and ingenuity). Each bed had two down king pillows and two regular pillows (all came with the house). I added buckwheat Japanese neck pillows, which are great for reading before going to sleep.
The beds stayed like this until last year, when I was finally motivated to finish the dressing of the beds.
We had to find fabrics that coordinated with the ones we had used to reupholster the furniture in all the rooms. Fortunately, decorating editor Kevin Sharkey kept good records and swatches. We removed the bed skirts and the voile canopy stretcher covers. The waffle-patterned box spring covers, from Martha by Mail, were laundered, pressed, and reinstalled. Velcro strips were affixed to the undersides of the bed and canopy stretchers, ready for new skirts and valances. I even bought a larger mangle so that each new sheet could be pressed in about 60 seconds, a great time-saver.
Marcia Uranovsky, a talented seamstress in New York City, cut and sewed the valances and bed skirts, working from my rough sketches that were then redrawn and made into patterns by crafts editor Nicholas Andersen. The varied shapes are interpretations of the kind of classic valances one can find in pattern books, historic houses, and wonderfully decorated homes. They can also be adapted for window valances.
The duvet comforters were sized precisely to fit just the very top of the mattresses. Their covers are reversible, with tops and bottoms made of different but complementary fabrics.
Once the big beds were done, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. I was happy with the resulting roomy, lovely sleeping places. Rest and comfort are two goals for any stay at Skylands.
I can't say for certain that the new bed dressings are responsible, but I have never had more comments about the comfort of my beds, and everyone says without hesitation that "last night's was the best sleep ever." No hostess or homemaker could dream of a better compliment.