Newest Inflatable Beds
Resemble the Real Thing

One was too lumpy, one was too heavy, and one was too hard to blow up.

The princess and her pea would have a field day with one of the biggest trends in bedding: the inflatable kind. Until recently, they were no thicker than a single mattress and were so low to the ground that most people over age 14 had to flop themselves down (with a lot of grumbling).

But instant blow-up beds have improved dramatically, in both quality and selection. That's been spurred mostly by the increasing popularity of the best known maker of such mattresses -- Aero Products International -- whose AeroBeds became a hot-selling product during the late 1990s on home shopping channels, and later in retailers, in the wake of a savvy infomercial campaign.

The latest inflatables are designed to look more like the mattress in your bedroom, with features like pillow-top layers and higher mattresses that mimic trends in real beds. Air pumps can fill some of them in less than a minute. Some can even turn into recliners.

To set up Frontgate's bed, you unzip a case, extend the metal legs and turn on an air pump. It promptly inflated to what felt like a regular bed.

With the holidays approaching -- complete with cranky relatives who need a place to stay but who don't relish the thought of camping out on the living-room floor -- my lounging aide Ed and I went on a search for the finest inflatable beds on the market. We were looking for a few things in particular: height, comfort, ease of use, and, finally, a fair price.

None of the five options we tested delivered all the criteria we were looking for, but all seemed like they'd go a long way toward satisfying even the grumpiest guests. They include a nifty bed from Frontgate that unfolds like a giant insect; a Titanic pillow-top from AeroBed; a bed with a back that inclines for lounging; a velveteen offering from Simmons Beautyrest; and an inexpensive mattress from Target that was surprisingly comfortable, despite the many steps needed to set it up.

Hands down, the EZ Bed from Frontgate was the star of the group. The downside is price. The queen-size version retails for a hefty $299, the twin is $249, and the full is $279. Folded up, the bed is neatly ensconced in what looks like a large and sturdy black canvas suitcase, complete with wheels. After that is unzipped, the bed emerges like an eight-legged spider. With only a light tug, it is easy to extend the metal legs, pull the cord out of a small cubby, plug it in and turn on an air pump embedded in the unit. The quickest of the sizes we tested, the twin, was ready to go in under a minute, and it took only a quick flip of a switch to adjust the firmness to Ed's liking. At 19 inches high, it felt like a regular bed and delivered a comfortable feel when outfitted with sheets and blankets. Altogether, it is the most elegant and handsome bed on the market.

It's like sleeping on a giant cloud. But the AeroBed is hard to adjust and folding it up will exhaust you.

Height and comfort are also taken to an extreme with AeroBed's Raised Pillowtop, which came out last year. We tested a queen-size one, which cost $300 (the twin is $200 and the full $250). It perched an imperial 26 inches off the floor and had two air-filled stability bars on either side to keep it from falling over. It was so puffy and round that it seemed like a cartoon version of a bed, resembling the overstuffed look of popular pillow-top mattresses.

Aero has done a nice job with the unit, which took only a few minutes to inflate from an embedded air pump, providing a comfortable series of air chambers and little fuss. One problem was that we couldn't use the air pump to deflate it for adjustments -- the button for letting out air was clunky, and the deflating pillow-top layer nearly swallowed Ed while he was fiddling. Another issue: It is very heavy and much harder to fold up and move than the less pricey Frontgate model.

You have to admire the moxy of the Insta Flex, an airbed that can recline for easy reading or television watching.

An interesting gimmick -- the ability to raise one portion of the mattress to a comfortable reading angle -- was what attracted us to the Insta Flex air bed, which sells both a 22-inch-tall version for $130 and a lower (7-inch) version under the Eddie Bauer brand for $69. (Both are queens.) Made by American Recreation Products, the beds use a nicely made embedded air pump to fill both the regular part of the mattress and the inclining pillow in about two to three minutes. While it's not an essential feature, both Ed and I liked being able to turn the bed into a lounger for easier reading or television watching.

While we could get used to the Simmons's purple velveteen finish, it's too low to the ground to make anyone feel like a king getting in it.

Despite the low price and nicer material (a purple velveteen finish), we were less impressed with the Simmons Beautyrest Extraordinaire, which turned out to be pretty ordinary. Selling for about $100 for the queen size ($60 for the twin and $80 for the full), it is simply a glorified one-level mattress, although it is billed as more because of its pillow-top addition. In fact, that adds only a few inches to the unit, setting it just 12 inches off the ground.

The separate air pump is well made and easy to attach, but you can't easily inflate it if you lose air (although it does have a push-button deflater if the bed is too hard). It also took almost four minutes to fill properly. But despite all the work, as well as the hassle of having to drop ourselves down onto it, it was relatively comfortable due to the well-done separate air chambers inside the mattress.

The Anywhere Bed is a downscale version of the EZ Bed -- few features and hard to assemble, but the price is nice.

We liked the price of the Anywhere air bed, sold by the Target chain under its Greatland brand. At $80, the bed was basically a low-rent version of the Frontgate EZ Bed offering, perching the user 27 inches off the ground on a warren of metal legs that fold up nicely into a carrying case. Given the price, you don't get all the cool gadgetry of the EZ Bed -- instead, you have to plug in a separate air pump (which was the most difficult we used and impossible to attach to make adjustments), fill up the mattress and then insert it into the loose fabric sleeve over the metal legs. By the time we were all done with the prep, both Ed and I were tired enough to collapse onto it for a short catnap.

Thankfully, given how high air beds have gotten, we didn't have far to fall.

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