Laundry Nights

The email from the hotel invited patrons to ‘Give the wife, girlfriend or partner a rest tomorrow night, because the Carlton Draught girls will be in to do your laundry (well your ironing anyway)’. From here.

Suprise, suprise the promotion didn't go down too well on social media. It's really pretty icky if you think about it, not only the presumption that it is "the" wife, girlfriend or partner who does your ironing, but that you can lighten their load by going to the pub and drinking beer while some other female (most likely) or male (just for show) irons a token shirt. Like it's not even as if they are going to iron the whole overflowing basket of household ironing for you, is it? Cartlon Draught published a response here, "Very few people are fond of ironing so we thought we'd offer drinkers the chance to have their shirt ironed when they purchase a Carlton Draught. This promotion is open to men and women over the age of 18." 

turns Monday into Funday!

Hmmm. I never did like Monday all that much. It's not washing day here, it's ironing day and I normally leave it until the absolute last minute. Just so I can sabotage the last chance of a relaxing evening in front of the telly. Still, technology and housework, it's a winner.

Source: flickr.com via Janet on Pinterest

twilight sensations and neopolitan dreams

I almost ever watch commercial TV anymore and when I do, the ads are a revelation. This one from Surf has a woman hanging out her washing on a beautiful spring day. She is wearing a vintage dress, has a charming old style washing line (although give me a hills hoist any day) and follows a cat through the shadows of the sheet into an dreamy landscape full of exotic scents before falling back into reality, laughing with joy. Yes, I know clean sheets are a pleasure, but oh puhlease.

While I'm on the subject of Surf and youtube, I also found this one featuring Lisa Mitchell of Coin Laundry fame. Gorgeous laundry for less. Or how to con a whole new generation of women into the utter delight of housework. Not that I mind pretty, or a well kept house, but there is something about these ads.... all this dressing up of a job that involves soaking stinky underpants and grotty sheets...   

Very Princess and the Pea. I'm too grumpy (or ho hum at best) to be a good pitch for these. Still, I liked the clothes peg. I wouldn't have minded getting more of those.

what does the emancipation of American women mean to you?

Standing up in street cars? Going dutch when your dreamboat is broke? What about the right to vote? That has to be the biggest thing since Adam's apple. Oh Carol, you sweet dumb thing, pull over your flaps- you're dragging..... true she really did say that, does that mean what I think it means?

So yeah, a washing machine. No more clothes lines, no more blue Monday's and on it goes. Emancipation that any woman can understand. Indeed. Apart from the folding, that is.

not its boring twin

Hmm. I'm standing at the tram stop waiting for the Sydney road tram. It's such a beautiful balmy summer evening and it almost seems a pity to actually get on the tram and as I'm thinking that thought, I see the picture of the "nerdy guy" holding the iron. I rummage around in my bag and quickly snap a couple of shots before getting on the tram... hoping that is indeed the right one because I was too busy to check...

I guess as the slogan is "Cornetto, No boring bits" that the "nerdy guy" who must be boring in his boring high pants pressed jeans and t-shirt symbolises the choice we make between "boring" and "not boring". Cornetto man is larger than life, smiling and happy and "not boring". Even though it is the same man. Although really there is no choice, in this life you can iron and have ice cream, possibly not right at the same time. Silly. Silly.

OK, (added later because I lay awake last night thinking about the stupidity of this ad), these guys are like twins. The TV ad goes like this "what if there was someone out there that was looked just like you, but they took care of all the boring bits? So you got to enjoy more good bits ... pick Streets Cornetto - life's better with no boring bits."  So nerd guy does all the boring bits like housework, washing and ironing while the cool dude plays his guitar and watches telly and eats ice cream. With no boring bits. Nerd guy also queues to get a cornetto for cool dude. 

I wonder how this ad would play out if the character was a woman? All these boring tasks being typical women's work in many families. Although it is interesting to me that these tasks are presented more as nerdy self care and the young man escapes them by having a clone to "take care of all the boring bits". As opposed to having a mother, girlfriend or wife do it. I guess we could call that progress.

Gain? or SOS?

From here, which I think is one of my new favourite reads. Really, I think this fetishism of domestic labour is on a par with this, only much more glamourous.  "Because when you’re doing household labor, it is of the utmost importance that you are hot, in high heels, and headless." Go and see the rest of the pictures, they'll make you laugh, and then you'll want to put your head on the desk and cry because, dress it up however you like, there is still the bloody washing to do. Week in week out. And probably by you. Even if you work.

Marie Claire March 2005

And laundry 'round here isn't sexy or even pretty. I am lucky to have Mr Helpalot, but he isn't exactly a wife, because he is a man. So even when I'm working outside the home and he isn't, I still seem to spend a lot of time putting washing through. Not all of it, but a fair bit of it.And let me not even start on the drying of clothes on clothes racks over winter. I just can't go there yet. But I will, you can be sure of that.

organised people

In my mind, I'm not what I'd call an organised person. But I am really, sort of. I fill out forms neatly, answer all the questions, provide the right documentation and meet deadlines. However the neatness is a thin veil for the chaos beneath. I have paperwork all over the place and I'm always searching for it when I need it. Not saying that I lose it, well not as a rule, but I'm not so organised that I get it right, all the time. Mind you, the reason we were back at the bank today had more to do with their lack of organisation than mine.

While we were waiting to see the manager, Gerard pointed to a poster and said, there's a good washing picture. And he's put another on my desktop, perhaps he's trying to tell me something. Anyway, there's a way that I like to hang my washing, but it's not like this. And like my paperwork, my laundry is more about meeting deadlines than about being organised for the sake of it.

But I know what this ad is trying appeal to. You can sort your money into piles like your laundry and it will make you feel better. Which for most people, I'm guessing is really just a veneer of organisation. And it's no skin off the banks nose. Still, I'm glad we seem to have sorted that paperwork out. The washing, even with rain, was a doddle compared.

ironing al fresco at midnight

Ya, haa, ha, ha. How far away from the truth is this? Mothers (and some fathers too, I guess) everywhere have been working away preparing for the Chrsitmas frenzy of feasting and exchange. I've seen women in the supermarket today with big round, I'm so tired but I just can't stop until it's all done eyes. I never realised how much work Christmas with children could be until this one. It should be more fun. It will be more fun.

And talking about presents, who in the right mind would give someone an ironing board for Christmas? Unless they really, really wanted one? The Christmas my dad gave my mum an axe as a present is legendary in out family. Don't do it fellas.

This picture is from a 2002 Home Beautiful, from a little section the back (hence the less than clear picture) where they poke fun at the appliances and household trends from the past. In the future it'll be breadmakers?

I feel as though I'm well behind here. Several pictures ready and waiting to have words put around them, including two from others which are my favourite sort. Hopefull there'll be some time for idle writing in the post christmas lull. Or I may just watch dvds on the couch. I certainly won't be ironing (unless sewing realated) that's for sure.

 

So anyway, I'm nearly all done. Because otherwise why would I be doing a blog post? Tonight after Grace unwraps presents from her Tasmanian side of the family (presents on Christmas eve is a German tradition so I'm told and spreading it all out works for me), eats some chocolate and goes to bed (hopefully), we're going to wrap her presents, put them under the tree and drink a bottle of lambrusco. All of it. And then tommorrow will come as it will.

So Merry Christmas readers!

yet another use for the hills hoist

The other evening at the dentist, as I was waiting for my root canal treatment, flicking through the trashy magazines and trying not to be bothered by the sounds of two radios (on different stations) and a dental video, I happened upon this. In the current Cosmopolitan, a magazine I would never buy, because I am far too old for that sort of nonsense. Indeed, I think I'm probably old enough now to be the mother of women in this demographic. But anyway.

 

It's an ad for jeans. And there's another one in the same series where the man is wedged in what looks like a commercial ironing press in some sort of factory. I'd include it here but the picture came out kind of blurry. This looks like some sort of caravan park. Romanticising poverty, or are they on holidays? Housework as a kind of domination, slightly kinky and perverted? Instead of just plain work. Or is it just a convenient angle for his butt?

why didn't mother use lux?

You know, I'm actually not very good about some aspects of laundry. I loathe handwashing. To my mind it doesn't get clothes very clean and it requires that I get my hands wet, something I dislike intensely. I could go and get the kitchen gloves, kept for those times when I really have to pull my finger out and do a load of washing up. Which perversely, I don't mind once the gloves are on and the dishes sorted and stacked neatly. Grace loves to stand on her little stool right in front of whoever's doing the dishes and swish her bare hands in the warm soapy water. Ugh. I love that she does this, it's not that awkward and she's good company chattering away, but half of me wants to tell her about dishpan hands and sensitive skin. And how working in hospitality will ruin your hands far quicker than gardening. And how you'll never be able to pip olives or handle tomatoes without wincing. Or enjoy handwashing. Not that I ever did. If the truth be told.

As a consequence, my jumpers don't last that well. Because I machine wash then. In cold water, on a gentle cycle and in a bag. But they still shrink and felt. And attract lint, because our washing machine, which we bought when the old one broke down, doesn't have a lint filter. I remember leaving Grace with my mum and going out to a second hand washing machine place with G. Somewhere near a big ravine. Because the first time the washing machine repair man visited, I was at home, probably about seven months pregnant with Grace and he talked to me about getting babies to sleep and how he didn't think our old machine had legs. He left a card for a place that sold cheap second hand washing machines. Just in case. So anyway, when the old machine carked it and we went to buy a new one, all I was thinking about was being able to do big, big loads of nappies and vomit covered clothes. Not about wearing black, going to work or about lint filters. So maybe now the time has come when I should think about one of those new fangled washers, you know the sort that have hand wash cycles and gently swoosh your clothes around.  Or I could keep some gloves in the laundry? Or just keep going the way I am?

p.s. Picture from one of my mums old knitting books.
p.p.s Next post is my 100th post about laundry. I feel I should celebrate, but how?

every woman deserves a relax-sit

And to do the ironing at the same time, maybe while watching television or supervising the kids homework. Mind you in the heels this lady (in a judges wig?!) is wearing, standing for any length of time is bound to be a tad uncomfortable. Those shoes may appear elegant but my feet feel blistery just looking at them.

Personally I like to do my limited amount of ironing standing up and listening to the radio. I'll most likely be wearing ugg boots, slippers or thongs, depending on the season. Hopefully while G makes dinner or feeds Grace. Contemplating a big relax after dinner.

These images are from an Australian Women's Weekly dressmaking supplement from the late fifties, early sixties. Lucille Rivers is described as a famous American dressmaker and demonstrator and was touring Australian capital cities demonstrating easy, professional dressmaking. The following equipment was displayed during her demonstrations;  Beutron Tecpearl buttons, Coats supersheen thread, Lightening zippers, Realax-sit Ironing Boards, Singer Sewing machines, Sunbeam Steam Irons, Mc Calls paper patterns...

And a big hello to visitors via Brocante Home. Lovely to have you.

Share your on-line experience

Some time ago, Alina sent me a link to this site. I'm surpised that I haven't been there before as I've researched the Hills Hoist a number of times. Maybe it's newish or this little gem has been tucked away in some little corner that I've missed. It's very odd. People write in with their Hills Hoist stories. Mostly about swinging from them. Although there is also a drinking game, spin the goon. But best of all is the laundry personality test. I kid you not. Mindless and trivial amusement for a hot night spent on-line, looking at what's on the line. Ha, ha. Geddit?  Anyway, the game involves matching a person, a pair of undies (including a thong) and some pegs. A clunky animated photo character with a big head then hangs the chosen undies on the Hills and you can then see what your choice reveals about you. It's so much sillier than you could possibly imagine. And someone goes to work and gets paid to devise all this! Although I imagine they would have other responsibilities as well.

Alina also made the comment that she sees laundry images everywhere. So do I. I feel surrounded by them. I could have something new to post everyday for a year. (Now that would be a challenge, but I don't think I will....) That said, I still love it when someone sends me or gives me something. My peg collection is growing steadily too. It's nice to have other people playing along.

Save sixpence

Look what I found in one of Gerard's rock mags. I'm wondering whether the OMO in the bag hanging from the bed post is an advertisement or some sort of camp accessory. Hmm. It's similar  packaging to this box but from the seventies rather than the fifties.

So I'm also thinking maybe there is some OMO symbolism that I'm just not clued into. Or maybe Elton John just thought it looked cool in the photo. Who knows? Oh and the missing letter from the writing at the top of the image is "p" as in George Harrison tried to help. And the caption to the photo reads, having a nice lie down in 1976, the year he revealed his bisexuality to Rolling Stone: "People burnt my records. But you know what? It was a very small price to pay." 

Lightest! Fastest! More efficient!

I think the first iron I ever owned was one of these. It nearly put me off ironing forever. This ad is from the back of a dressmaking supplement to The Australian Women's Weekly, probably from the late 1950's. The supplement is chock-a-block with full skirted cotton dresses. I can just smell all that ironing.

Also on offer "Get your copy of this helpful laundry and ironing BOOK FREE and learn the secrets of professional ironing and pressing!" The ad promises, "It's a sensational offer! Only Sunbeam has largest stainless steel tank. Scientifically positioned steam vents and channels in the larger ironing surface give an all-over cushion of rolling steam. Super-accurate heat and iron steam control ensures perfect ironing results. " The iron is beautiful in that retro way, but I think I'll keep my modern one. I wish it was as decorative as this one.

Since when did laundries become pretty?

My laundry is pretty ugly. I admit I fantasise about a pretty one sometimes, and most of those fantasies are pretty retro and involve gingham curtains and such. Maybe because I don't read home decorating magazines or even get into the whole decor thing. So most of my ideas come from old Home Beautiful or funny old books about housekeeping. Therefore I was abit taken aback while cruising the interweb at The Boccante Home and Domicile and saw these.

Well. I never considered that washing machines could be beautiful beyond a kind of utilitarian kind of whiteness. Unless of course they were green and retro, and not at all practical. Not that I'd have something like that in my laundry as I'd find no charm in the extra labour. I once painted an ugly old fridge with hammer finish paint, it looked like a rock in the kitchen. But I never would have considered going that far in the laundry. It's not as if you sit in there and have coffee and biscuits with your friends. So my idea of decor involved the aforementioned gingham curtains and maybe a towel to sit on top of the machine, like my nan had. Now I'm considering the possibility of a more modern look in my ideal laundry fantasy.

However this styling seems all wrong to me. I know it is conceptual and maybe aimed at people who have their washing machine in their kitchen, but curtains and cushions? And potted plants on top of the washing machine?  I'd be thinking a modern but rustic dark wooded table. Some neatly folded piles in muted bright colours. What about a stylish washing basket? And maybe some imagery that hints at the technical promises of the machine. According to the LG website these washing machines are super energy efficient and eliminate ironing by using a cycle that blows steam through the clothes. Oh, beautiful and labour saving!