I have never been able to iron even the simplest item of clothing. Okay, maybe I managed to iron a T-shirt, but not much else. My ironing is terrible. I am great at housekeeping, but ironing is a different story. I don't know if this is the subconscious outcome of seeing so many "humor" cartoons in newspapers with the woman ironing while the man is lying on the couch watching TV, I just don't like it.
Still, I have always envied those who can iron. A good friend once told me that she is excellent at ironing, and that she would iron clothes for payment. I listened, all the while getting greener and greener. I was so jealous! Somehow I managed to hide it, however.
;-)
Ironed clothes are lovely and ironing is a great skill to have, whether you are a woman or man. There are no tasks specific to women or men.
In Rosamunde Pilcher's Coming Home, protagonist Judith Dunbar always associates ironing and ironed clothes with home and warmth. The smell of freshly ironed clothes is a balm in tough times, and those who can iron well are the highly competent and sympathetic characters Phyllis and Mary Millyway.
I am re-reading Coming Home after seventeen years. Despite its failings, it is a book which has a lot to say about beauty and fashion. More about this at a later post!
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