I bought an eye mask for the first time a few weeks ago. It was an impulse buy at Whole Foods—along with the whole, organic rotisserie chicken that my fridge didn’t have room for.

Languished through the personal care aisle, as I always did in a grocery store, even when I didn’t intend to buy anything. I saw an eye mask by the beauty brand Kitsch on display near some hair accessories. It was the brand’s Charcoal Satin Pillow Eye Mask. Though the sight of an eye mask—pun intended—slotted near hair clips and hair ties seemed odd, its packaging, an unassuming blush pink, caught my attention. So, it was no surprise that I gravitated towards it. The box was smooth. And the face of it was open, purposely, so you could feel the uber-plushness and silkiness of the mask. I flipped it over. Eighteen dollars? For an eye mask? Well, it was soft. Very soft. The open-face packaging did its job because I placed it into my cart, far away from my chicken.

Full disclosure: I never liked eye masks. My mom, however, loved them, and I remembered trying one of hers as a teenager, simply because I liked stealing whatever she had. She had this strange way of making everything she donned look better and more interesting than it was. I thought a lot of moms were like that. She watched me put it on one night, and I hated it immediately. She laughed when I complained that it felt heavy and suffocating. She took it back.

Being that I was a night owl, I was excited to try my new mask. (I put it in a quick wash cycle first because I imagined many other fingers had also stroked it before I had.) It was late, around 4:30 A.M., when I slipped under my covers. Lying my head on my Blush Pink Kitsch Satin Pillowcase, I put the eye mask down over my eyes and dozed off.

I woke up to darkness and lifted the mask. Holy shit, I felt good. Usually, when I woke up, I felt groggy, had watery eyes, and felt sort of zombie-like, like the nerves in my eyeballs were stretched just a bit further than they should be. But I felt alert that morning. My eyes were relaxed, and I didn’t feel the urge to blink my lids in rapid succession to wake myself up more.

I grabbed my laptop and logged in to Slack to brag to my coworkers about the great night’s sleep I had. I texted my mom and best friend a photo of the mask, accompanied by a long wall of text about how well-rested I was. My friend replied: “Is that underwear? Like boyshorts?” I looked at the photo again. “LMAO. They do look like shorts. But no, it’s an eye mask.” The thickness and large surface area did make it look like an undergarment.

I told my editor that I want to test the mask for one week and write about it, and she told me to go for it.

How I Tested the Kitsch Pillow Satin Eye Mask

Testing was easy—just seven days. All I had to do was make sure I slept every night and remembered to put on the mask. I created a spreadsheet, which you can view here, to keep track of four pieces of data:

1. How many hours of sleep I got: I would text myself when I went to bed to get a timestamp and then would do the same when I woke up the next day. Then I calculated, roughly, how many hours I had.
2. Detailed description of my sleep: I essentially freewrote about how I felt, jotting down anything I could remember as soon as I got up
3. Sleep quality rating: I decided on a 1 to 5 scale. (1: Bad; 2: Just OK; 3: Good; 4: Great; 5: Amazing)
4. Detailed description of how I feel upon waking: Again, I used this as an opportunity to treat my spreadsheet like a digital diary to ramble and reflect on the day I had. I used the same 1 to 5 scale as I did for my sleep quality rating.

(Want to see the two different ways I wear my eye mask at night? Check out the video below.) 

Testing Results

After I woke up each day, I updated my spreadsheet. At night, I rated the day I had.

Day 1: I Didn’t Know Five Hours of Sleep Could Feel So Good

I already mentioned how great my sleep was on night one. But when I put the mask on for the first time. It did feel jarring because the mask is designed to cover both my eyes and ears. My anxious brain wondered if I’d be able to hear an intruder breaking in at night if my ears were covered. To test my theory, I asked Alexa to play some sleep sounds after I put on my mask. I could still hear it, but not so much that it felt distracting. It felt like white noise of white noise. OK, cool. I’m safe. 

My sleep quality was a 4. I gave the day I had a rating of 5. I felt bright-eyed and had an insanely productive work day. I also felt happy and more engaged in conversations with friends.

Even though my brain felt like it had been superpowered, my body felt heavy and sluggish. I’d been running a lot recently, so I still felt sore. Because I only had five hours of sleep the previous night, I imagine my body didn’t have time to recover adequately from my long run the day before.

Day 2: I Woke Up with Lots of Eye Goop

Falling asleep was tough for some reason. I eventually did, though, and woke up to my alarm. I gave my sleep quality a score of 3, mainly because I didn’t get enough sleep–just four and a half hours.

When my alarm rang, I lifted the mask, and the light poured in, heightening my eye sensitivity. It felt like I walked out of a cave. But my eyes adjusted in about ten minutes.

I also had a lot of eye sand, some dry, some goopy. According to the American Academy of Ophthalmology, eye goop forms because we don’t blink at night, so any eye discharge and tears build up on the lash line. I’m thinking that because I wore it over my fluffy curls, the mask was tighter than usual. It’s possible the mask restricted my eyelids from moving around, creating the perfect environment for eye gunk to pool around my eyes. I wiped it away with a damp washcloth, and once I started work, I felt mentally clear. I gave the day a 4 rating.

Day 3: I Got Used to Sleeping with Something on My Face

By night three, I finally felt comfortable with the eye mask on. The pressure and pitch-blackness no longer felt foreign or oppressive. Unfortunately, I only slept for about four hours. Enter a two-hour nap sans eye mask. However, I did talk to my BFF, the same one who said my mask looks like underwear, and we had a deep, thought-provoking conversation.

Day 4: The Afternoon Slump Had Me in a Chokehold

Although I slept for seven hours, it was a mediocre seven hours—even my rating of a 2 feels generous. I woke up feeling groggy, but that passed after about 30 minutes, and I felt pretty good the rest of the day.

Day 5: From Decent to Great

I slept for about six hours, and my sleep was good overall. Like the previous day, I woke up groggy and then had a burst of energy. When the afternoon rolled around, I was overcome with tiredness. I napped for an hour, which refreshed me enough to go for a run after work and do some errands. I gave the day a 4 because even though the afternoon slump was rough, I had a very productive day, and felt accomplished.

Day 6: It Was a Good Day

Queue Ice’s Cube 1993 hit “It Was a Good Day.” I don’t have much to say about day five. Not bad. Not amazing. Just…good. I was pleased.

Day 7: Like the First Day, I Felt Fantastic

I logged a full eight hours of sleep. I had some wild dessert-induced dreams. Sleep quality? 4. The next day: a 5.

What I Love About the Kitsch Eye Mask

I love the silkiness of the satin fabric. It feels really luxurious against my eyelids. It’s thick but not enough to feel like I’m lying on an extra pillow, despite the mask’s name. I like that it still allows for sound to pass through and is flexible enough to accommodate side sleeping.

I’ve been wearing the mask most nights, even though the experiment is over, and my overall sleep quality has improved. When I wear the mask, I feel energized the next day–usually–and find that my productivity and mood increase.

What I Don’t Love About the Kitsch Eye Mask

Because the mask is so silky, it does shift a bit on my face. The shift is minimal, but it’s still noticeable. When I first lay down and put it on at night, I find myself adjusting it a few times before it feels secure.

Initially, the mask felt a little too snug on my face, pressing on my eyelids a little more than would be considered comfortable. But after a few uses and washes, it’s loosened up and now feels perfect for the combination of my head and hair size.

Final Thoughts

Despite some of its flaws, I definitely recommend this eye mask to anyone—especially fellow night owls who don’t always get enough sleep but need something to deepen what sleep they do get.

After the experiment ended, I went mask-free on day eight. The next morning, I went to make coffee. I loaded the K-Cup into my Keurig and hit start. I walked away while it brewed. Upon walking back to my machine, I noticed all of my coffee had spilled on the counter, the brown liquid dripping on the floor. It was then that I realized I never put the mug underneath. I’ve had Keurigs for a few years now, and I have never, ever made this mistake. Had I slept with the mask, I’d probably have been awake enough to remember.

Kitsch Charcoal Satin Pillow Eye Mask

Want more Outside health stories? Sign up for the Bodywork newsletter. Ready to push yourself? Enter MapMyRun’s You vs. the Year 2025 running challenge.