There are many reasons why I am resisting this declaration.
1. I categorically object to the word “comfy.”
2. I shudder at the word “comfy” spelled like this: “Comphy.”
3. Once I spent an entire year writing a story about cotton — and I learned EXACTLY what makes the best sheets in the world. Microfiber was not on the list. (Also, I own the technical “best sheets in the world,” and I own these comfy ones. They’re better.)
But there you go: that’s the secret. Microfiber.
My friend Angela ferreted them out after being seduced by the sheets on the spa tables at Sanctuary Camelback Mountain. And then she let me stay at her Coronado guest house, and then our friend Hollye stayed over, too, and then my mom came to my house, and now we are all converts (and refuse to say the name out loud.) Turns out, Comphy has many fans: the Four Seasons, Canyon Ranch, Wynn Las Vegas, the Ritz Carlton.