Ironing Is For Suckers
My boss: I stubbed my toe on my ironing board this morning and it still hurts.
Me: This is why I never iron anything.
I have long had a hate-on for ironing. No matter how hard I try, I cannot master the art of ironing. I just end up putting more – and more stubborn – wrinkles into the clothes from which I am trying to remove wrinkles.
For many years – and much to the chagrin of my mother – I didn’t bother ironing anything. I’d just wear wrinkled clothes. No one ever said anything to me about it1. Granted, this was made easier by years of working in the lab, where jeans and T-shirts are the unofficial uniform. But now that I’m building a career as a hoity-toity professional who should be walking around looking all spiffy like, I can’t really go around in wrinkly office attire. What this has meant in practice, however, is that I end up not wearing the wrinkle-prone subset of my wardrobe for ages. Until I get fed up with not being able to wear those particular items and I spend an evening ironing them all, getting progressively more frustrated as I get some wrinkles out, but put others wrinkles in – and I usually burn myself at least twice in the process.
So I decided it was time for drastic measures. Specifically – buying a fabric steamer.
The verdict: Much faster than ironing and though it didn’t get my clothes as perfectly smooth as I would have liked, it definitely gets them to the wearable level and, importantly, I didn’t put any *new* wrinkles into the clothes. I’ll take it.
- at least not to my face [↩]