Have you ever ironed your clothes while wearing them? I have. But more about that later.
I hate ironing. HATE. HATE. HATE. If you could commit hate crimes against ironing, I would. But hate isn’t a strong enough word. I LOATHE ironing. When I was in high school, I would ask my sister to do it. As luck would have it, she was sweet enough to do it without complaining. I remember I had a really expensive all-cotton plaid dress shirt that would get millions of tiny wrinkles, and I didn’t have a clue as to how to iron it, so I handed it over to her and she always ironed it. She’s one in a million. Both of my sisters are.
I got to the point where wash and wear became my mantra. Permanent press became my ideal. If it came out of the dryer with a couple wrinkles, that was okay, because even though you think other people notice one or two wrinkles, they don’t. Most people are too self-involved to be concerned about your one or two wrinkles. They’re worrying about their one or two wrinkles – the wrinkles you don’t notice because your too self-involved and self-conscious about your one or two wrinkles … and it goes on and on – the circle of life is never ending.
And when did this notion of of neatly pressed clothing come about anyway? We take it for granted nowadays, but when did this idea start, and who started it? It wasn’t in the Dark Ages or the Middle Ages, they were too busy just trying to exist. Some fop somewhere must have come up with the idea.
Why can’t we walk around in clothing so wrinkled, it looks like we slept in them? Who makes up all the rules to live by anyway? I like the thank-you rule (Postmodern Gratitude), it makes good sense, but the no-wrinkle rule? I don’t know, I’m still working on that.
For a while I took my shirts to the cleaners, but that always requires training them how much starch to put in, and you have to pay them for it too. Imagine that – they expect a fee. I never paid my sister, it was all part of being in the family and having nice relatives. And I did say please when I asked. Try going to the cleaners and saying: “Will you press these shirts for free please?”
So how did I iron my shirt while wearing it? I had ironed it on my large ironing board (see above), got it to about 2 or 3 – I think I can live with that many wrinkles – put on the shirt, and noticed a small wet spot near the shoulder – or was it a grease spot? I wasn’t sure.
I was in a hurry (going to my niece’s wedding reception) and I didn’t have time to wait it out and see if it would dry on its own. so I unplugged the iron (I’m not a complete dolt), and gently touched the wet spot with it. Sure enough, it was a wet spot, and the iron dried it on contact.
So there you have it. I have ironed a shirt while wearing it. Like I said, I hate ironing.