On the way to work this morning I noticed someone down the road had thrown out their ironing board. That makes sense, I thought. I mean, who needs an ironing board?
I loathe ironing, absolutely loathe it. It’s boring and it’s pointless. I mean, once you’ve ironed a shirt and put it on, you almost instantly need to iron it again. That’s why I like a fair degree of synthetic material in my clothing these days.
Ah yes, but what about the environment, you say? What about all of the oil involved in producing the synthetic fibre? To which I say, what about the environmental impact of cotton?
Yes, I know I could wear hemp shirts or something else like that, but I’m sure they’d only need ironing too.
This puts me in stark contrast to my mum who used to iron everything: from handkerchiefs to sheets. My earliest childhood memory, in fact, is of weekly baths in the copper as my mum boiled the sheets to within an inch of their lives ahead of ironing them to within an inch of their lives.
I mean, occasionally, just occasionally, I don’t mind using a bit of Fabulon, but mostly I find it boring and pointless.
And the reality is, if you wash your clothes and then hang them up to dry on coat-hangers they end up looking pretty good anyway, especially if they’re half-synthetic. For all others, take a trip to the laundromat as they do a very fine job for next to nothing.
..because life is too short to iron.
And three cheers for the people down the road who have thrown out their ironing board.