I have Better Things to do with my Life!
It’s been 5 years since I ran an iron over a shirt. Or a skirt. Trousers too. In fact, my entire family’s wardrobe. It’s been 5 years since I burned a hole in anything! 5 blissful years and a whole lot of re-gained hours. Because frankly, I have much more fun ways to spend my time than stand like a perfectionist, attempting to de-crease a mountain of clothes… seventy-five percent of which will be covered in grease, stains and most definitely never-decreasing creases the moment I have packed the ironing board away in its cupboard.
Actually make that ninety-nine percent. Who am I kidding?
So just what IS the point?
Ironing really is quite the most futile of exercises. And one that until the birth of a baby who woke between 3 and 5 times a night, 5 years ago, I thought I ‘had to‘ endure. Just because it’s what everyone else did. A household chore as necessary and ingrained in every home as washing clothes or dishes.
Well, it turns out not.
I’m going to let you in on a secret…
The world doesn’t fall apart just because you stop this mind-numbing activity (okay… it is slightly more bearable if you are catching up on a sitcom as you do it, or screaming at the top of your voice to Prince… although you are twice as likely to scold yourself when you twist the dial to the wrong steam setting). Not only that, but, nobody (and I do mean nobody) has announced to me that mine or my children’s clothes have more lines than Ronnie Wood’s face! Sorry Ronnie, but you were bizarrely the first person who sprang to mind to illustrate my point.
And so why do we do it?
Some of us strange creatures do in fact get pleasure from ironing. I know my mum lists it as one of her most therapeutic go-to’s to unwind. Okay then… But for most of us, it is just another line on our To Do lists; one which, believe me, unless we are off on a romantic date, or a job interview, or okay, okay – having to send our children to school in pristine shirts as part of an unbending dress code (I’m really lucky when it comes to the latter ‘cos my children’s school has no uniform!), is a complete waste of time. And one which often leads to us procrastinating over the things we really want to do with our life.
When we consider the average ironing session takes 30-45 minutes, that’s a nice chunk of our lives we could be spending:
- Doing a workout (either at home or the gym or pounding those pavements)
- Baking a cake for when our friend comes over later (in this house, the act of baking sweetness is always top of my priority list, even before a finger is as much as wiped over a dusty surface.) Cake is life!
- De-cluttering squirrel’s dray style piles (of all the stuff we are hoarding like nuts). Yes, forget relying on ironing and an episode of Corrie for your ‘therapy’, nothing (and I mean nothing) clears the mind, cleanses the body and zens out the spirit better than a little feng shui in the home.
- Whipping up an amazing meal instead of the usual ‘freezer grab’ or microwave meal later because you ‘don’t have enough time’.
- Meditating and visualising a future where you are paying somebody else to do your ironing (if the idea of lowering your household chore standards is enough to make your head spin… but you equally loathe taking the task on yourself).
- Calling a friend you’ve been meaning to catch up with for years.
- Writing to a friend you’ve been meaning to catch up with for years.
- Dancing around the room, music full blast and letting Madonna’s attitude rev up your vibe so you’ve now transported yourself from feeling like a frumpy housewife to a young, carefree chick.
- Letting yourself be a child again with those colouring books or Lego blocks – or both. How many times a day do you tell your children ‘Mummy’s too busy to play right now.’?
I must admit, I am lucky enough to have a husband who will iron his own shirts for the office.
And that is WHY he is my husband. We had the ironing talk before the Big Day you see. Oh yeah, for me it’s up there with the ‘Do we want kids?’ and ‘Shall we have a joint bank account?’ stuff of huge importance. I may be a woman but that does not make me designated male shirt ironer. No thank you!
Although, I still fail to see why he bothers… No sooner has he set foot in his car and his shirt is covered in wrinkles.
So buy back time… today.
And it won’t even cost you a thing. Go on. I dare you! Try it for a week. See how liberated it makes you feel to quit this one time-consuming domestic burden. Notice the extra seconds, minutes and hours added to your day.
Or alternatively, get yourself one of these beauties and make the job a whole lot easier…
Whatever you decide to do in your ironing life from this day forth, just remember this the next time that overflowing basket makes you sigh with absolute dread…
Are you about to launch your new Spring Summer collection in London, Paris or Milan?
Right then. It can only be Cake O’Clock.
