Down pillows are the worst. I understand that they were a necessity back in the day, but the thought of plucking a duck and shoving the feathers into a pillow case, only to lay my head on it later, makes me wonder what on earth people are thinking today. When the quill of a feather jabs me in the cheekbone or a feather vane wipes across my forehead in the middle of the night, it's not a pleasant moment conducive to sleep. I envision gouging my eye out with a slight move of my head. In my groggy sleep state, the feather brushing against my face makes me paranoid and thinks that there's a spider nestling into my face.
Give me that synthetic, polyester-filled pillow, the highly flammable one that will set my head on fire if I accidentally drop a cigarette onto it...in the event that I pick up smoking. Or the memory foam pillow that contours to my face and neck, that doesn't quite adapt quickly enough to me as a I roll over in bed. But no feathers, for the love of God.
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