Object Matters A fluff-free history of the pillow.
Object Matters A fluff-free history of the pillow.
The next time you rest your weary head atop your memory foam, down, polyester or wool-stuffed pillow, try to avoid recalling the object’s not-so-humble origins; you’ll likely conjure nightmares. The main purpose of pillows, at first, was not for comfort. Back in early Mesopotamian civilization, the half-moon-shaped headrests were made of carved stone, and their main job was to keep insects out of the mouth, ears and nose of a person sleeping on the floor.
The Romans and Greeks brou-ght comfort into the equation, perfecting the pillow’s ability to support the head, neck and spine by stuffing cloth with feathers or straw. Initially, the bolsters were seen as a sign of wealth, though the general populace adopted them over time, especially as an accessory brought to a place of worship to cushion knees while praying. But solid pillows prevailed elsewhere for longer. In ancient China, for example—where it was believed that soft pillows pulled energy from the body—lavishly painted ceramic versions were de rigueur through the 14th century; materials like jade, bamboo and bronze were common as well. The industrial revolution brought with it sleeping platforms, and softer pillows became mass-produced and more affordable. With the cotton boom in 19th-century America, the stuffing became more mold- and vermin-resistant; suddenly, pillows were no longer a luxury, they were a necessity. The Victorians, predictably, delighted in—and popularized—the concept of decorative pillows, and by the mid-1900s, the invention of polyester filling introduced stuffing that maintained its shape.
Now, one can purchase a pillow to suit just about any need—they’re no longer solely touted for optimal sleep, but for emotional and physical health. Body-shaped pillows mimic a partner, cooling gel inserts keep sleepers chill in hot conditions, maternity pillows support the contours of mamas-to-be and travel pillows prop us up while flying. Smart pillows can even mimic sunshine or play music to help us rise. The downside of the pillow’s newfound comfort is, of course, that each morning’s parting is a sweet sorrow.