The iron age

It’s time for my annual ironing session. I hate ironing. It takes forever and I’m not very good at it. More often than not, the clothes look worse when I’m done with them. But the existence of this blog reminds me that I should at least try to take better care of my clothes and keep them in a ready-to-wear state. As opposed to letting the unwearables pile up on a chair until next year’s ironing session, as I currently do.

Just like drying my hair, I only iron when I’m on vacation because no way am I using my regular evenings and weekends for such time-intensive chores.

But I do love the sound the iron makes when you push the steam button, and licking my finger to test if it is hot yet. Like putting out a match with your fingers, lighting a gas stove with no internal sparker, or tucking an especially satisfying hospital corner, it’s one of those few domestic duties that really induces an adrenaline rush.


2 thoughts on “The iron age

  1. If you figure out how to like ironing, do share! I suck, suck, suck at it. Perhaps we could arrange an ironing party. Would cocktails and gossip help?

  2. So far my approach (probably not unique) is to set up in front of the TV, which reminds me of my mom ironing when I was tiny. Has to be something with an easy-to-follow narrative, and that doesn’t have to be watched too closely, though. Cocktails and gossip probably would help….until I spill the cocktail on whatever I’m ironing.

    Yesterday I was making tomato soup and ironing white shirts at the same time, which seemed like a really bad idea.

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