Laundry Detergent Thoughts

Speaking of laundry detergent (see Mark's blog), I love this by Liz Curtis Higgs--

Our great-grandmothers faced the dreaded domestic duty known as "Laundry Day" once a week—Mondays. Granted, it involved rollers and wringers and saggy outdoor washlines, but come Tuesday morning, it was over. Not only did people own a mere 4 outfits instead of 40, they wore them (horrors!) many times before they washed them again.

At the dawn of this new millennium, however, I've decided Grandma got off easy. In our household, the closets are bulging, the kids change clothes hourly—whether or not they need to—and piles of dirty clothes call my name from every corner of the house.

The fact is, sisters, every day is laundry day. (Right, Hippie Chick?)

And what can't be washed clean must be dried clean. Often. The dry cleaners on the corner not only know my name and phone number by heart, they recognize my entire wardrobe on sight. "Oh, is that green plaid dress back again? Liz must be home from Poughkeepsie. Don't forget to treat the spot." I never need to point out where the Caesar dressing or the linguini sauce landed. It's always in the same place—six inches below my chin. Sigh. The cleaners must think I keep a food magnet in my bra.

At least such professionals are well paid for their efforts. Very well paid. My hubby has learned to visit the bank before he picks up my dry cleaning.

Wet cleaning is my department! Bless the creators of laundry detergent for doing their level best to make this thankless task more enjoyable. Such upbeat names! Cheer. All. Fab. Other brands bring to mind a sun-kissed Hawaiian vacation: Surf and Tide. Then there's the detergent that strikes fear in the heart of dieters everywhere: Gain.

When it comes to softening clothes, we're urged to think of duck bottoms—Downy—or childlike activities—Snuggle and Bounce.

Stubborn stains got you down? Just Wisk and Shout. (Wasn't that a Beatles hit in 1964?) I vote for more realistic product names that accurately capture the experience: Whine and Pout.

In protest, I've started marking my own Xs over the irons on all my labels.

Grandma's clothes also didn't have the intimidating care labels we face every washday. Consider the hidden messages in these examples plucked from my laundry basket:

Wash Separately. Separately? As in one item at a time? Surely they jest. If that's the case, we're talking 37 loads of laundry!

Machine Wash with Similar Colors. Hmmm. I own a dress the color of overripe mulberries. Must my whole wardrobe revolve around that shade, or will everything I own become berry-flavored if I wash it with the dress in question?

Hand Wash USA. When traveling overseas, you can leave your hands at home and wash your clothes any way you please.

Made in Morocco. This garment included no laundry instructions whatsoever. Obviously it must be sent back to Morocco to be cleaned.

Hand Wash in Cool Water. Use only one hand to wash the item and use only cool water. But what makes water "cool"? Wearing a hip style of shades, or the right platform shoes?

Mild Detergent, Gentle Cycle. A kinder, gentler laundry experience. Your clothes will send you thank-you notes afterwards.

Tumble Dry Low. How low should you go? And really, what's the alternative?

Tumble dry high? Throw your clothes up in the air? Nail your dryer to the ceiling?
Iron Low. Low dryers may be scarce, but low ironing boards are legion. In most hotels, full-size ironing boards have given way to economy models with two-foot-long boards that hover mere inches above the floor. The good news? You can pray while you iron.

Drip Dry. A long process this, producing dangerously invisible drips on our bathroom floor. Appropriate warning signs are posted on the door. "Watch Your Step! Drying Drips Next 10 Feet!"

Hang to Dry. A drastic measure. If your clothes won't drip quietly, you have no recourse but to sentence them to a long swing from a short rope.

Dry Flat. But where? The kitchen floor? Your dining room table? The front lawn? Once dry, these flat clothes can be worn only by a paper doll or a woman trapped in the second dimension (consult A Wrinkle in Time for further details).

Damp Dry. Oh, honestly! Make up your mind—is it damp or is it dry?

Touch Up with Cool Iron. A cool iron? Now there's a contradiction in terms. Aren't irons, by definition, hot? Does this mean we could just as easily press our clothes with a frozen beefsteak?

Then, There Are the fabric care labels that feature no words at all, just a row of pictures. Oh dear. Would someone kindly send me an Official Secret Decoder Ring?

The first enigmatic symbol looks like a tulip, but probably is meant to be a washing machine. Although tulips are my favorite flower, as tiny washing machines they would allow garden-variety housewives such as me an alarmingly short laundry season. Two weeks of mad washing every spring, then nothing but dirty clothes the other 50 weeks of the year. Talk about soil!

The next symbol is a triangle that looks like a … well, triangle. Uh-oh. The triangle has a big x over it. Fear not: I promise not to put my dress inside a triangle, no matter how tempting it is.

The picture of an iron really looks like an iron. Unfortunately, it does not have a big x over it. Bad news for a woman who lives in a "No Ironing Zone." In protest, I've started marking my own Xs over the irons on all my labels, even the linen and cotton ones. Such a feeling of power, that.

Then there's the symbol of a p in a circle. Hmmm, "Press this garment while walking around in circles?" No, we already have the little iron graphic. "Polyester spoken here," perhaps?

Finally, a picture that can only be described as a Victorian door window: a tall rectangle with an oval inside, crisscrossed by another x. I'd play it safe and avoid wearing the garment in an historic home.

Another challenge: What happens when the ink on a label disappears? Stop wearing the garment? Stop washing it? Stop worrying and wash it any way you like?

My husband, Bill, has three labels he'd like to see on future wardrobe purchases:

Do Not Iron While Wearing He suggested this while spotting me attempting to iron a pleated skirt with half the pleats still circling my body. (Maybe that explains the "p in a circle" graphic. … )

Do Not Use Lip-stick While Wearing. Bill recommended this one after watching me carefully line and color my smackers in Daytona Red lipstick, then step outdoors on a breezy day. When my oversized collar blew up in my face, pressing a bright, red kiss on my blouse, it was not a pretty picture.

Considering the complexity of fabric care instructions, Bill votes for one simple label that says it all: For Best Results, Leave on Hanger.