I love smooth things. I don't understand the disgust with ironing. It's just like any other chore, uncomfortable but worth the outcome? I mean I'm not going to eat off of dirty plates, but I also hate washing dishes! There's something about treating myself to nice things. I don't have to iron my sheets, but I would if I was worried about wrinkles. I too go straight from the dryer into the bedroom. Do not want wrinkled sheets! I also pull out my jeans and make them straight before I hang them up. I just don't want things to be so far out of whack, even if they're not something that's going to be ironed.

Dirty plates are a health hazard. Wrinkled sheets not so much.

That comment about our mother or grandmother having nothing better to do than to iron their sheets certainly is not true. Idle time and leisure was not what they had a lot of. Grandma was a rural farm wife and Mom was a military wife who ironed a lot of military fatigues. But .never sheets. Grandma was born in 1898 and her life was more like the 19th century. Acquiring a wringer washing machine was a big deal, as was the electricity. NO ironed sheets All was line dried for both of them with the exception of when we were living in Alaska and the military supplied us with an electric dryer in base housing. 1960s

" I don't understand the disgust with ironing. It's just like any other chore, uncomfortable but worth the outcome? "

No disgust, just poor value. As you said, it's just like any other chore - something I don't like, but need to do. I need to wash and dry my clothes, I need to clean my kitchen and bathroom, I need to do my Pilates - because I value the results to be worth the work, even if I don't like doing those things. I don't dislike doing them, but I don't like it either.

If you find ironed clothes and sheets worth the effort, then you do them. I do not find the results worth the work, so I don't do them. Simple. Thankfully we all don't like and prioritize the same things in this world.

Activities have individual levels of appeal. If you have a convenient set up ironing can be contemplative. I enjoy having the radio on, hearing the steam, smelling the starch, and seeing the pleasant change to the fabric.

In college I would iron on the floor. My sewing machine was also on the floor so it made some sense to me but was not a convenient set up

I don't even own an iron. Also, my face is wrinkled so I'm sure as heck not too worried about my sheets.

carol, your post reminded me of my older sister when we were kids.

She loved to iron. She could stand for hours ironing and listening to the radio.

She is one of the most laid-back, carefree individuals I know.

I’m not sure if she is still an ironer.

Jehanne, I don't think the situations you describe for your mother and grandmother would be ones common for others to share from their own personal experiences.

I can imagine that a woman living in a farmhouse without electricity had plenty of work to do and wouldn't be ironing anything at all. Few of us had grandmothers who lived in such circumstances.

Military fatigues? During my Army years, the expected style was to have fatigues very heavily starched. So much so, that to put on the pants or shirt required pushing feet and hands through pantlegs and sleeves that were stuck together. There was no need to launder and press them at home, all bases had modestly priced laundry services and also off-base laundries offered the service too. I'm going to guess your mother did the fatigues herself by choice - I can't imagine what process she used to get them heavily starched.

It is what it is. I'm sure both of these women worked hard in modest circumstances.

" She loved to iron. She could stand for hours ironing and listening to the radio. "

She had time to kill. Not all kids did back then nor do now. I never did.

And heck, I need to book time slots sometimes a week in advance to do things with my grandkids. Not always.

Elmer, that is not true. You don’t know my sister, nor my family, nor what we did as kids. We all had chores to do. She chose ironing. And luckily she loved doing it.

I’m sorry that you didn’t have free time as a child. Perhaps, that explains a few things.

From AI 🤠

A child with no free time may struggle with independence, problem-solving, and creativity, as free time is crucial for developing these skills. The "adult takeover of childhood" can limit opportunities for unstructured play, with parents sometimes overly involved and restricting activities like walking to a friend's house or playing at the park. An abundance of scheduled activities and the constant availability of digital entertainment can leave no room for free, imaginative play, which is a vital part of a child's development.

😉

My sister loved ironing.

" Perhaps, that explains a few things. "

It sure does. My parents facilitated and encouraged me to spend time with a very wide variety of activities and experiences. I was very athletic and also an accelerated and advanced learner because of the programs I got into. I had more friends and social activities than less active kids had. Not all of the activities were for me - my mother volunteered at a Skid Row clinic and she would often time her hours so that I could go along and experience helping less fortunate souls.

My experiences set a pattern I carried into my adult life.

My mother used ironing as her relaxation, I think. She set up the ironing board or the mangle in the windowed family room that adjoined the laundry room, turned on Mike Douglas or Julia Child, and did a task that I’m not sure she particularly enjoyed, but we all appreciated the results (and we looked tidy).

Funny story: we wear a lot of knits so not a lot of ironing involved. In our last house, the best place for an ironing board was a fold-down one hanging on the back of our bathroom door, so DH or I ironed his work shirts in the bathroom, and we had a pants press for trousers and slacks.

Well, our pre-schooler was participating in a university study on young children and vocabulary, and one task was identifying some drawn pictures. He called a blouse a shirt (the observer told me that children who called it a blouse had mothers who worked in professions outside the home), couldn’t identify a cigarette as anything other than a stick (we knew no smokers), and didn’t know what an iron was. I stammered to the observer that the ironing board is behind the bathroom door so he never saw it!

”She had time to kill.”

No she didn’t. Your statement is incorrect.

She had chores to do, ironing was one of them, she loved that chore.

I happen to have a fully ironed king flat sheet on our bed. It feels *great*.

I normally iron only the top third of our flat sheets (and the pillowcases). Because... I like the feel when I'm in bed. I don't enjoy ironing. I just like the result enough to do it. And...it's for ONE bed: Mine/ours. I do three at a time and chage sheets weekly.

I don't argue that housework can expand to fill the housekeeper's time.

" I don't argue that housework can expand to fill the housekeeper's time.

Exactly.

Case in point: My friend married an Englishman who grew up in the countryside -- when he wasn't away at boarding school. His mother stripped all the beds daily; washed and ironed the bedclothes; remade all the beds. He was amazed that no wife in suburban America would do this.

chisue, I don’t think we ever ironed bedding in our home growing up. i know that I don’t.

My father had a lot of dress shirts, my three sisters and I, and our mother had a lot of cotton blouses. Those things are very finicky to iron, but it had to be done. We also used cloth napkins and tablecloths. My parents did a lot of entertaining both socially and for business.

My parents had chores for all of us to do. Raising a family of four children kept my mother and father very busy. We were taught to pitch in both with the housework and the outdoor work.

I loved cutting the grass. I still do.

And speaking of ironing men’s dress shirts…

When we were cleaning out my mom and dad’s house, we found a box of detachable men’s shirt collars in a box in my dad’s hankie drawer (of course). I don’t remember those but my dad must have worn them. 🤷‍♀️ Some even have his name printed on them.

Anyhow, porkchop, to answer your question, as I said in my first post, no, I don’t care if my sheets are wrinkled.

carol, thanks for your ironing story. I loved that you watched Batman while ironing. I especially loved the part about lowering the board to kid level. That is a blast from the past!

My sisters and I used to play ambulance with the ironing board. We’d raise it up and load a doll onto it, usually from off of a table top, and then lower it down, and cart off the patient like they were on a stretcher.

We had so much fun!

CarolB — love your story about ironing table linens and your Dad’s napkins for extra allowance money. That was also my extra chore— 25 cents per table cloth. 😇 To this day, I love freshly ironed table cloths, napkins, and crisp sheets. I don’t love the actual ironing, but it’s a chance to let my mind go blank— a zen moment, with no TV or radio. We could all use more of that in our lives. And yes, I enjoy switching to no-iron flannel sheets in winter and putting the iron away until spring. 🙃

My mom hated ironing. By contrast, my husband was in the military when we first married and was a pro at ironing his uniforms and regular shirts. And now he helps w the napkins! It takes all kinds!

I used to enjoy ironing, when the boards were wood and the covers were cotton, often some padding and an old cotton sheet safety pinned onto the board. Clothes sprinkled, rolled and put in the refrigerator to let the water soak through the item. Now, with metal boards and stiff, crunchy covers, heavy, thick irons with spray and steam that are more difficult to maneuver into small spaces, I don't have the same sensory satisfaction.

" heavy, thick irons "

That surprises me - even in my 40 years of ironing, the irons themselves have gotten progressively lightweight, in my opinion, that I'm still surprised they work well.

I remember centuries ago when we lost power for a few days my mother pulled out an antique cast iron then she fired up the coals red hot, put them inside the iron and pressed my school uniforms. That got me interested to learn to iron. Eventually I discovered a tailor’s ham which brought me a little joy when I occasionally need to straighten few things out.

A tailor’s ham! So that’s what that thing was called! Perfect. My mother once kinda showed me how to use it, but it didn’t stick. And isn’t needed to iron tablecloths and sheets. Thanks @palisades for that trip down memory lane.

We never ironed the sheets, growing up, but I did learn to iron by ironing tea towels, pillow cases etc.

I remember visiting friends, and they had a huge presser. Monstrous thing, with a lid. They ironed the sheets, shirts etc.

Growing up, I loved watching Nan do the laundry with a wringer-washer. Watching the water come out from the clothes in the wringers was fascinating. :-)

"I don’t love the actual ironing, but it’s a chance to let my mind go blank— a zen moment, with no TV or radio."

That's how I felt about barn chores when I had horses -- completely mindless labor, which I relished after a long day at work.

FWIW, I was taught in school(F.I.T.) that it's not the weight/pressure of an iron that smooths the fabric, it's the heat/steam. Pressing too hard can damage fabric.

Horses and sail or row boats — can there be anything more in-the-now relaxing?

Hey guys, look what I found. Not many around and only $50.

If I had space for it, I’d like to get it for the gadgetricity.

Looks like the cord is too skinny.

There was a time in my life when I thought ironing by hand was relaxing. I was 16 and babysitting about five children who all seem to be between the ages of five and seven, and none were twins. This family lived on an island and it seemed like every other day was foggy or damp and overcast if not raining. This family lived in a large house with two sets of stairs. The children were lively. I remember one of them throwing a metal cap gun at me and I had to duck behind the refrigerator as she yelled, “you’re not the bossa me!”

Ironing was a quiet retreat and a way to warm up a bit. Who knows what that gang of kids was up to as the soft aroma of freshly laundered cotton met the steam iron. I was in a quiet section of the living room, all to myself. I think I got paid $0.25/hr.

We used to line dry our clothing at our home. In the winter the trousers, socks, towels and sheets would freeze solid, drying by wind and sublimation. No one was going to be ironing linens — maybe only school clothes and my father’s white shirts that didn’t get sent to a cleaners.

One spring night something chased smelts into the bay and cove. In the morning the silver colored shiny smelts were all over the sloped ledges. The sheets that had been on the clothesline overnight were perfumed with the scent of fresh smelts. I didn’t mind. Smelts are one of those marine-fresh water fish (anadromous) and they have an unusually clean fresh smell — not fishy at all. It was fascinating to me.

Mmm, smelts 😋

And I've seen those presses in many a vintage home magazine.

" Ironing was a quiet retreat "

You were baby sitting 5 lively little kids and you retreated from them? I don't know what to say about that.

One of my fondest memories as a kid was spending every Saturday night with my grandmother, helping (watching) her iron freshly line dried laundry and watching Lawrence Welk. She ironed everything on that clothes line. Sprinkled each item with water, ironed, starched, ironed again.

Elmer, yup. The house wasn’t that big. I can’t believe they let me babysit all those kids. What were they thinking?

The craziest day was when the couple took their 8 month old with them in the van, and dropped me off at a large sandy beach. The kids were everywhere at once. There were sand bars and the tide was coming in. Other beachgoers brought the kids to me a while later, telling me that the incoming tide was stranding them on the sand bars. Clearly I was in ‘over my head,‘ so to speak. I was not familiar with Atlantic sandy beaches with flat slopes where an 8 to 10 foot incoming tide could come in faster than a cat could run.

Even a 20 year old would be hard pressed to manage that many willful young kids. Thankfully, they survived. I did not end up in jail. That couple should have known better.

25 cent an hour. Really. Crank that through the inflation machine.

The husband drove an MG convertible and I might have babysat for free just to ride in that thing. I always wondered what became of that family. Later, they divorced. I believe she died of breast cancer. I always liked her. He was arrogant and self focussed. There used to be things like paté and smoke mussels and wine in the fridge.

Recently, while perusing a newspaper from that state, I read that the next to eldest son had died. He was, I thought, a tad wild. Two of the other kids were favorites of his parents — it was palpable. I was tempted to write to the boy’s daughter, but did not. I still might. The kids were fun.

ETA I ironed in the living room. Kids were in the house and kept milling around the house. I was not focussed much on ironing — which was mindless work. Long ago. Maybe I played games with them. I was too young and petite to be babysitting all of those kids at once. In retrospect, I suppose I was fortunate not to have been assaulted by the mister.

Sounds scary, I'm glad everyone survived such potentially dangerous circumstances.

Sounds like a nightmare to me! Petalique - I’m happy to know you survived!

@Toronto Veterinarian wrote:" 'heavy, thick irons '

That surprises me - even in my 40 years of ironing, the irons themselves have gotten progressively lightweight, in my opinion, that I'm still surprised they work well."

I misspoke (miswrote). It isn't the actual heaviness of today's irons, but the awkwardness of the shape. Too many features included, I guess. The old irons were much easier to slide into tight spaces. I bought a travel iron years ago and I love using it sometimes because it's so sleek compared to the steam/spray iron I have.

Elmer, my mom starched and ironed Dads fatigues after drying them on these stretchers for the pants.

We lived off base until we moved up to Alaska and there was but one car that Dad took to work with him. NO, she did not have much of any choice about it. I guess that is a lifestyle that you are not familiar with. My folks were as independent as they could possibly be and did everything for themselves, including building the house that we lived it at that time, all by themselves and Mom kept a big garden and canned the produce. They both came from poor families and had no education, but they made a good life by being frugal and independent and self reliant. That included doing the ironing of fatigues. They were heavy cotton fabric and after starching in cooked starch they had to the be sprinkled with water from a shaker bottle because this was before steam irons or spray starch. I still remember the smell of all that cotton being firmly pressed.

I guess rural farm life is another way of life that you are not familiar with. LIfe was different back in those days. Expectations were different, too. Paying others to do your menial chores was not a part of that life . That would have been more of an urban way of life for town folk.

I saw Olys commennt about how different irons were back then. There were no steam irons, or at least we didnt have one. I still have that iron that my Mom iroined with and it is compact and heavy and I wish that I had one like it all these years. I guess it could be rewired and and it may still even work, but I am afraid to plug it in. It has a nice balanced weight to it and can be manipulated very easily. I wish I had one like it. But, for all the ironing I do now, not worth to invest too much in an iron and at my age.............Back then these were considered to be durable goods. Nowadays things just are landfill very quickly.

I remember having to regularly clean our iron because starch would gunk it up.

" I guess rural farm life is another way of life that you are not familiar with. "

That's true. My ancestors about whom I have information (only going back about 150 years) have all been urban dwellers, as was my childhood immediate family.

I'm not sure what being from a rural farm background has to do with how fatigue uniforms are laundered but that's fine. The amounts charged by the base laundries were very nominal - remember their clientele was the soldier population, none of whom received generous wages. And like PXs and commissaries, I think the laundries also received some amount of governmental support or subsidies. But if one had frugal habits and time to spend, I guess doing it at home was a way to save some money.

Not remotely. I also don’t make my bed unless the sheets are fresh out of the dryer, or we are having guests. Why? In a few hours it will look the same as it did before.

I line dry the sheets when it's nice enough out, and fold out of the dryer when it's not. I've never had sheets so wrinkled that they are uncomfortable. No ironing needed.

I think most folks iron less than in yesteryears. More fabrics are machine wash and wear, no iron needed. Home steamers are available and handy too. Dressing nice in things that need pressing on a daily regular has taken a deep nosedive in the last couple decades. Dry cleaners are more scarce than they used to be as well.

I usually try to fold them, but I really don't care anymore. Mine don't wrinkle anyway. I use flannel or Jerseys knit.

Join the We Do Not Care Club.

After sleeping in a hotel bed with crisply starched and ironed snow white bed linens you might just change your opinion or at least remember how special that felt decades later!

" After sleeping in a hotel bed with crisply starched and ironed snow white bed linens you might just change your opinion or at least remember how special that felt decades later! "

I don't like getting into those crisply ironed sheets in a tightly made bed - sometimes I want hotel staff to not make my bed and leave it crumply and inviting.

Different strokes......

"I don't like getting into those crisply ironed sheets in a tightly made bed - sometimes I want hotel staff to not make my bed and leave it crumply and inviting."

Same here! I always put out the do not disturb hang tag so staff leave things alone.

Me too!!! 😄