An argument brewed this weekend as I held forth that, no, you don’t sleep under a bedspread (particularly the quilted polyester ones in hotels), but pull it off and sleep under the bedclothes underneath it. The bedspread is for decoration and to make the bed look made. My friend said if you did that it would become like a throw pillow that you move on and off the bed and never really use for anything.
I sleep under it, and had no idea that people didn’t until my husband told me a couple months ago he grew up removing the bedspread while sleeping. That seemed to me to be the silliest thing I’d ever heard. Why have something just for show? Makes no sense to me.
Then again, I live in the northern climes, where we NEED thick quilts and such to sleep under. Maybe you people in the tropics get away with less.
Oh god, is this like those little soaps in the bathroom you’re not supposed to use? Or my mother-in-law’s bathtowels, which are for show only, and she’ll get the ratty ones out of the closet for you to use, but all the towel bars are taken up with the decorative towels so there’s nowhere to hang your damp towel when you’re done with it but godforbid you drape it neatly over the back of the wooden chair in the guest bedroom to dry? These sorts of things make my teeth ache.
Of course originally a bedspread was meant to be slept under! You don’t think people would actually shear, comb, spin, weave and sew a huge ass piece of fabric simply to look pretty, eh? Well, people outside of nobility, anyway.
Nowadays, who the hell knows. Just tell me where to put my ratty towel and I’ll do whatever you want with the bedspread.
I don’t like those bedspreads precisely because I was always taught that it wasn’t to sleep under, but to make the bed look neat when you make it. Useless, in other words. I sleep under a comforter.
We bought a cheap Bed in a Bag set from Macy’s a few years ago. The bedspread is some sort of slippery, satiny, shiny synthetic blend that looks nice and slides onto the floor as soon as I fall asleep.
So, my answer to the OP: Do you sleep under a bedspread? is…
Don’t see why a bedspread can’t be attractive and functional.
I mean, if it is cold, what is the sense in removing the bedspread and then adding an extra blanket?
I sleep under whatever is on my bed. Years ago I was trying to save money on my gas (heating) bill. I slept in a sleeping bag rated to 20 degrees Fahrenheit and it worked OK, but it weirded out the occasional guest who shared my bed.
I fold our spread back over the foot of the bed, I like this method because it weighs down (with a double layer!) the bedding over our feet for added warmth.
It’s also a little more decorative, and large, and more of a pain to wash. I feel like the folding back keeps it from needing laundering as frequently as the sheets and regular blankets. That could all be in my head, but it’s what I’m used to.
I don’t sleep under the bedspread. I think it’s partly for show but it’s also kind of like a dustcover. For example, I’d lay out on top of the bedspread in my streetclothes, but I’d never have my streetclothes touch my linens.
I sleep under a bedspread. My mom has added two decorative bedspreads to my old bed in the house where I grew up - drives her nuts that I sleep under them, but I can’t make myself fold them up just so only to put them on my window seat, then fold them neatly over the bed again the next day and repeat the whole process every evening/morning I’m there.
I don’t have a bedspread, so I sleep under a duvet.
When I’m at cheaper hotels, I usually will sleep under the scratchy polyester blend bedspread and the rubbery blanket underneath; however, I am loathe to stay in hotels that have such accommodations on a regular basis.
Well, the sheets and blankets would be on the bed, under the bedspread. I don’t use a bedspread at home, just sheets, blankets and quilts, but will throw the hotel ones in the corner.
I’m not sure hotel bedspreads should be included in the same category, discussion-wise, as the bedspreads generally used at home. The typical hotel version is stiff, plasticky, scratchy, and smells like the seat of a city bus. As such, it goes on the floor immediately.