Esquire’s senior commerce and partnerships director Krista Jones sleeps really, really well. Her secret? An AI-powered mattress topper called the Eight Sleep. She’s been singing its praises to everyone in the Esquire offices for well over a year now, while also highlighting one of the stranger side effects of deep sleep. Sometimes, when she wakes up, she has to remind herself where she is. Do you want to sleep like that? Read her review of the product that makes it all happen below.
—Chris Hatler, deputy editor
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It’s been nearly two years since I started using the Eight Sleep Pod 4. I’m still not sure if I would recommend it, but I sure as hell can’t quit it.
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I’ve used sleep trackers in the past that told me I was an average sleeper. I might stay up late watching TV or go out for drinks, which would lead to some worse nights than others. But with the Eight Sleep, much of my night’s sleep is spent in REM, which according to Harvard Health “plays a key role for brain health and function.” It’s also the sleep stage where dreams occur, which is probably why mine have been so vivid. Most mornings, it takes me a few seconds to come back to reality, to remember what’s real life—but I feel so damn rested, I can’t complain, and quickly move back into the world.
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You have an idea in your head of who Zoë Kravitz is. Edgy. Boho. Hippie. Cool. She probably says “Perú” with an accent. Maybe it’s the tiny tattoos that curl around her hands and arms that signal something, or maybe it’s her striking resemblance to her mom, Lisa Bonet, who exudes the mystical energy of a shaman or healer. Maybe her dad is the defining factor. After all, Lenny Kravitz has been synonymous with the concept of “cool” since he broke big in the nineties. Some want to believe that Bonnie, her breakout role on Big Little Lies, is the truest window into the real Zoë. Kravitz has denied it on several occasions. She has said that her HBO character would drive her insane in real life, and she’s even getting some of her ink removed. The ice-cool image sticks all the same.
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As much as I hate the White House Correspondents Dinner—and I hate it with the heat of the surface of Mercury—I will not mock or make light of anyone who dove under the tables last Saturday night. I also will not tolerate any X-Files crapola about "false flag" events. The one thing that the opposition doesn't need now that it's on the verge of a watershed midterm victory? Alex Jones cosplay from the left. Leave it lay, folks. And a note for the president: You were doing so well, and then you compared yourself to Lincoln and shilled for the Gilded Palace of Sin (Thanks, Gram) and we were all back on Narcissus Lane in Crazytown.
Then, on Sunday night, he went on 60 Minutes, and Norah O'Donnell asked him about the passage in the assailant's manifesto in which he says, "I am no longer willing to permit a pedophile, rapist, and traitor to coat my hands in his crimes.”
Head for the hills! He's a'gonna blow!
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