My Hair Doesn't Know the Difference. My Face Does.

The follow-up to the April pillowcase column: satin still wins the hair argument, silk wins the summer and the skin. An amendment, with the receipts on both sides.

In April I wrote about pillowcases, and the part people remembered was the shortest part. If the budget says satin, buy satin. The worst option is staying on cotton. I meant it, and I still do. I was also, it turns out, not finished.

Because then a silk pillowcase arrived at the desk, and July arrived at the window, and I spent a hot London summer sleeping on one side of the argument and then the other. I am not writing to take anything back. I am writing to add a chapter, which is what you do when you were mostly right and slightly incomplete.

The short version is in the title. My hair does not know the difference. My face does.

I am not writing to take anything back. I am writing to add a chapter, which is what you do when you were mostly right and slightly incomplete.

The hair argument, which satin still wins.

I tried to be fair about this. A few weeks on satin, a few weeks on silk, same shampoo, same loose plait at night, same everything else I could keep the same in a flat that is not a laboratory. And I could not tell them apart in the morning. Not in the mirror, not in the brush, not in the amount of frizz I had to negotiate with before leaving the house.

That is not a scientific result, and I would not dress it up as one. It is one head of hair over one summer. But it is the head of hair I have, and it is the honest reading. What helps hair overnight is a smooth surface it can slide across instead of catching on, and both fabrics give it that. Satin gives it for a fraction of the money. On hair alone, on price alone, satin wins, and if hair is the only reason you are reading this, you can stop here and keep the one you bought in April.

Where the money goes.

I am suspicious of any upgrade whose main argument is that it costs more. Silk is beautiful and it is expensive and it asks to be looked after. You wash it gently, in cool water, without the dryer, and you are a little careful about what you sleep in it with. Satin, being usually polyester, shrugs and goes in with the towels. For something you are meant to put on a pillow every single night, the one that does not need managing has a real advantage. I did not expect that to matter to me. It did.

The skin argument, which silk wins.

Here is where the summer changed my mind. In hot weather, satin started to feel like sleeping on a raincoat. Not unbearable. Just warm, and slightly slick, and by about three in the morning I would find myself turning the pillow over looking for the cool side, which satin does not really have. Silk, on the same nights, felt cooler and drier against my face. It breathed. I slept better on it, and when I sleep better my face looks better, which is the least glamorous skincare advice there is and also the most reliable.

The crease is the other thing. I sleep on my side, as I said in April, and I wake with a line across one cheek that takes its time to go. On satin it was there. On silk it was there too, but softer, and gone sooner. I would not promise anyone more than that, and I would not call it anti-ageing, because it is not. It is simply less of your face pressed into something that grips. Some mornings that distinction does not matter to me at all. Some mornings, before a meeting, it does.

And there is the feel of it, which I cannot measure and will not pretend to. Silk is a pleasure to lie down on in a way satin is not quite. That is not an argument for your hair. It is an argument for your evening.

My hair does not know the difference. My face, at three in the morning in July, very much does.

The amendment, itemised.

So here is the April advice, with this summer's chapter added.

• If hair is the reason, buy satin. It is still the right answer and it is still the budget answer, and nothing about this summer changes that.
• If you run hot, sleep badly in summer, or wake with a stubborn crease, silk is the one thing satin does not fully match. That is where the extra money goes, and it is the only place I think it is worth going.
• If you buy silk, look after it. Gentle wash, cool water, no dryer, as in April. Silk treated like a towel will not last long enough to justify itself.
• If you are still on cotton, either is better. That was the main point in April and it remains the main point now.

What I actually do.

This is the slightly embarrassing part. I own both now. Satin from autumn to spring, when the flat is cold and I want the one I can throw in the wash without thinking. Silk from roughly the first hot week until the evenings turn, and on the occasional night before something where I would like to arrive without a line down my face. I am aware that this is a pillowcase wardrobe, and I am aware of what I usually say about wardrobes. I have made my peace with it. Two pillowcases is not excess. Two pillowcases is a seasonal decision.

If you only want one, and I would understand entirely, buy for the reason you have. Hair, satin. Heat and skin, silk. If you cannot decide, buy the satin, as I told you in April, and see whether next summer makes the decision for you.

A last note on the skin.

None of this is a treatment. A pillowcase does not fix breakouts, irritation or anything that is actually wrong with your skin, and it is not a reason to skip washing your face at night. Change and wash whichever case you have regularly. And if your skin is irritated, flaking or breaking out in a way that does not settle, a different fabric is not the answer — a GP or dermatologist is.

“I was right about the hair and late about the summer. That is an amendment, not an apology.” — Nelly

Silk also comes up where hair is set or coloured: heatless curls rely on a smooth case for the last hours of the night, and bleached blonde has the most to lose from cotton. More from the desk is on HowTo Beauty.

Filed by Nelly, from the desk · Hair / Sleep