...all on a Tuesday morning...
When I was a little girl, probably younger than ten, there was a newly married woman in our neighborhood in Alameda who my friends and I liked to visit. I think she might have had a baby but what I really remember about her is that she always seemed to be ironing. Jackie and Joyce and I used to sit in her kitchen by the hour (or so it seems in retrospect) and watch her.
Mostly she ironed her husband’s shirts. My mother never did that. Dad’s shirts were sent out to the Chinese Laundry on Encinal Avenue. In fact, I don’t really remember that my mother ever ironed anything. And certainly she never taught me any of the ironing intricacies – sprinkling the clothes and rolling them up, or testing the iron with a moistened finger. These were what made the difference in those days before steam irons. They were things I learned by watching our neighbor-the-newly-wed.
In fact, I learned everything I know about ironing from her – especially the intricacies of ironing shirts. First the collar, backside then front side. Then that little part across the shoulders. Then the sleeves, both sides of each one, followed by each cuff. Finally, the body of the shirt, making sure to iron around each button and press in that pleat in the middle of the back.
I don’t know when I began doing a little ironing of my own. I do know, though, that by the time I entered high school, I did all of the family’s ironing. That’s how I earned my allowance which I think was $2.50 a week. I ironed everything except dad’s shirts and the bed and table linens. They continued going to the laundry.
These days, not many things require ironing. But I still get the urge. No matter what, I iron the pillow cases. And I use spray starch on them. Why not? I love the smell and the crisp feel against my cheek at bedtime – and it’s spray starch, for heaven’s sake! What could be easier?
I do draw the line at ironing sheets, though. I remember how amazed I was once when Jane Nash left a party a little early because she had sheets to iron. “You’ve got to be kidding!” I said. “You iron the sheets?” She and her husband owned the Whalebone House which they had nurtured into a very successful Bed and Breakfast. “I can’t imagine that!”
“Well, you aren’t married to Jim Nash,” she said with a big smile.
It made me wonder if my long-ago ironing neighbor’s husband was also a Jim Nash. It wouldn’t surprise me.
The Nash’s had midwestern roots. That means EVERYTHING was ironed!
In my house each kid, except my brother, started ironing at about 10 or younger. First “hankies”, aprons, dad’s overalls, pillow cases for a year or so. Then, “everyday” shirts, skirts and other simple things. After we mastered the intricacies and learned not to scorch things eventually moved to “good” clothes. Everything was cotton and everything was ironed except maybe the dish towels.
Nyel was raised in Idaho, not the Midwest, and he had no siblings. His mother thought that he should be taught to be independent and ironing was one of the skills he learned. He still does his own shirts – except now while he’s recovering from rotator cuff surgery! I wish I’d had a chance to meet his mom. She sure did a great job with her one-and-only!
My mother ironed everything, too. I sat and watched her and we played games like “I am thinking of a movie star and her initials are………………..” However, I had no burning desire to learn how to do it myself and when Bob and I were married and he was going to the U of W and wore white shirts I had to call my mom to ask her how to iron them! The greatest invention ever was “Wash and Wear”.
I iron too…can’t stand those little hems that crinkle up, ruffles that wad up, plackets that aren’t flat. It’s kind of soothing to iron, anyway. I can almost imagine all my stresses getting smoothed away just like the wrinkles in the fabric…
My mother ironed a lot of things including sheets, but we had a neighbor who ironed underwear. That’s a bit much. A wet wash rag in the dryer with a wrinkled item usually does the trick. When Frank & Ana moved in with us they brought with them a steamer which had survived the fire in their apartment and they frequently use that. The only thing I truly enjoy ironing (probably because it’s fairly easy and I never got the knack for complicated items) are pillow cases. I love putting them on the bed and the feel of a clean, ironed pillow case against my face when I get into a fresh bed. Unfortuantely I only have time to iron pillow cases in the summer.