I think there are two types of people in the world when it comes to ‘clothes management’.
- The type who carefully sort their washing by lights, darks, colours, delicates, heavy-duty and woollens (huh?). Always select the correct cycle and water temperature. Pegs on the line with care. Folds the clothes when getting them off the line. Then irons and hangs them immediately; OR
- The type who sorts by light or dark only. Chooses the regular cycle every time. Pegs on the line with abandon. Then throws everything in the washing basket to remain until needed.
I’ll give you one guess which type I am. Yeah…Number 2 with a bullet. I try to be a Number 1 laundry person. But there always seems to be far too many clothes and not enough time. I do not know how mothers of tiny little people manage. Seriously, all those little socks and jumpsuits and singlets. It’s too much to think about!
I try to complete all my washing on the weekend…sometimes its ok to hang outside on the line. Sometimes I have to use the clothes airer inside. If it’s an inside job, the clothes can ‘air’ for many days. I just forget they’re there, waiting to be pulled off and dumped haphazardly into a basket.
Then every Monday I’m faced with the same problem. What….do….I….wear? I truly long for my school uniform days. One look, no thinking, just whip it on and away you go. But I have clothing freedom and with that comes responsibility. And ironing. I do iron you know. Every morning when I rifle through that basket looking for something that won’t make me look like I got dressed in the dark in the 1980’s. I just iron what I need for that day. Usually after I’ve showered and standing in a towel. I will confess to also burning my stomach several times from ironing in the nude. NOT RECOMMENDED. I once burned my stomach so badly, I had a long red scar that looked like I’d had some organ removed.
I also do not own a full length mirror…so some days, whilst the top half matches well, covers well and makes me look like a real life adult worker, the bottom half could be a complete lucky dip. Lately I’ve found myself saying to my husband as I run out the door “Does this look ok? Do these shoes go with this skirt?” He always replies with “I don’t know these things”. Last week after one of his responses I was so desperate I found myself on top of a dining room chair, trying to look at the my outfit in the dining room mirror. Lucky save, those shoes did NOT go with that skirt. Or the other day, I put on a lovely bone shirt dress only to see myself in the mirror looking like a safari hunter. All I needed was a hat and gun and I could be on the set of Out of Africa. Disgraceful.
Which all leads me to today’s outfit. It was cold this morning and I had the urge to wear pants. I can’t actually remember the last time I wore pants to work so finding a pair that fit, had a working zipper and no holes in them was a challenge. I selected what looked like a perfectly fine pair that met all the criteria. Until I started walking. They make the exact sound that George Costanza’s pants made from Seinfeld. A swoosh, swoosh, swoosh sound. By the time I discovered this, I was well and truly over the ordeal and decided to go with the George pants anyway.
So here’s to free styling your laundry and swooshy pants. Can you hear something?