Why I Started Ironing...

“I think the point of all of this is realising that some tasks, while not as compelling as others, at least until you have something even less compelling to do, does not detract from the need to do them.”

DS Coremans - Why I Started Ironing…, Forever Distracted By Life

Why I Started Ironing…

I hate ironing my clothes, for years as an adult I got away without having to do this most mundane of tasks by limiting my outward apparel to ‘things that looked better with creases.’ You know the look I’m talking about, t-shirts, jeans and various forms of knitwear. The t-shirts one may argue should have been ironed, but let’s face it, an hour under a jumper that you happen to be wearing that day, usually makes the worst of the creases disappear.

For years I attempted to live an ironing free life. Collecting a number of part-time jobs with no uniform, and following high-school with a few years of full-time study it looked like I’d get away with it. Even after starting work in an environment that required a somewhat more formal attire during the day, I evaded the hot metal-plated Hell that was ironing. I made do by only pressing the bits of my clothes that people would see day to day like the sleeves and collar of my dress shirts (if I was wearing a three-piece suit,) and the legs of my suit trousers. This approach allowed me to get by for a few years, until my first trip to the theatre as an adult.

A dear friend had a spare ticket to the Phantom of the Opera which was being performed in the King’s Theatre in Edinburgh. When offered this ticket I gladly accepted even at short notice I was eager to see this show. I was working before and didn’t have enough time to go home to get changed and to then get to Edinburgh with my friend. Before work I managed to put my shirt and suit into a bag, throw in a pair of boots and dropping it off at my friend’s house, planned on getting changed just before we left for the evening.

I had left my bag in the hallway at my friend’s house, but on arrival, I was baffled to find it had moved. My bag was still in the same spot however it was quite clearly empty and my clothes had been taken out along with my boots.

To say I was baffled would be a significant understatement, until of course my friend entered the room with a sheepish look of apology and chastisement in one expression, holding my suit and boots.

The manner in which I had packed my clothes was haphazard and it was the thought of what condition the suit within my bag may have been in which had proven to be too much for my friend. Having liberated my clothes he had pressed them to within an inch of their life. My scuffed boots had likewise been hand polished to a shine I’m not sure they had ever had. While my friend was embarrassed by the need he had felt to do this; I was rather embarrassed myself to think that it had required such effort.

From this point I did start using the iron a little more thoroughly. My suits, and shirts in particular seemed quite grateful for this. However, I still didn’t feel the need to do the majority of my clothes.

Enter studying. Six years ago I returned to the world of Higher Education when I enrolled on an evening course at a local college. Something which I enjoyed doing immensely. However as fun as the studying was, when it came time to revise for important tests at the end of the academic year it was funny how quickly I reverted to my high school approach of doing anything other than studying, as long as I could call it ‘purposeful’. This of course leads us quite neatly back to ironing.

While deep in revision for finals it occurred to me all of a sudden that ‘The Pile’ (the name given to the unfolded, and un-ironed pile of clean laundry within my home, which was there so often that it has been given a name by my flatmate) that usually sits on the end of my couch, which I tended to extract clothes from on an as they were worn basis, needed to be dealt with. Ignoring the fact that this system of storing clean clothes had been in effect for a number of years, and had never been an issue up until that moment.

How curious it is that once this notion struck me, I felt compelled to do nothing other than iron.

So…to Tesco I went, after all to iron ones clothes, one requires an ironing board, a luxury I had not had since moving into my flat some months before. Once I had procured this I proudly set my new ironing board up in my bedroom. While at Tesco I had even spotted some fancy scented water, to put in the iron to make clothes smell extra nice (the things a study addled brain thinks are a good idea will never cease to amaze me.) With Netflix in the background to keep me company, and a mountain of clothes some of which had never before come into contact with an iron, I had a whole day of this chore to keep me occupied.

Perhaps, it was the fact that it was saving me from studying exponentials and logarithms. Perhaps, it was the smell of fresh laundry. Perhaps, it was just about knowing that I had managed to procrastinate at an advanced level and still managed to feel as if I had accomplished something productive. But, from that point I was hooked. Now the iron, and its board have a semi-permanent spot in my flat and they get used on an almost daily basis. Since studying stopped, curiously the frequency of the huge bouts of ironing has also diminished, but I do still go over most of the clothes I wear before putting them on.

I think the point of all of this is realising that some tasks, while not as compelling as others, at least until you have something even less compelling to do, does not detract from the need to do them.

The confidence boost I get from knowing that I now look like I try with my appearance, even just a little, is something I didn’t ever think I’d achieve. Without the catalyst of procrastination I doubt I would ever have set out to change this aspect of my daily routine, as I didn’t know it was missing from my life until I did it. However it led to my far greater appreciation for trying things you would never expect to have enjoyed.

Try things, it’s the only way of learning whether they are truly worth doing. The things, which make the biggest differences in our lives, are often little things, which we don’t even take into consideration. They can however make a huge difference, what started out for me as procrastination, came with it a time to think about nothing other than what I was doing. Just as I was thinking about getting a particularly stubborn crease out of my shirtsleeve, a moment of clarity struck me, and I realised where I was going wrong with my studies.

Which leads me to my second conclusion of the day:

Taking time out and doing nothing can sometimes be exactly what you need to do in order to progress.

DS Coremans

Forever Distracted By Life

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Authors Note:

This story was adapted from a blog post I originally shared to my website Forever Distracted By Life in November 2015. You can see this post here.



To see more of my work visit www.fodibyli.com or on Vocal by visiting my profile, where you can see poems such as 'I am' my first poem which I shared here on Vocal.

Busch Gardens, Forida (September 2008) ©DSCoremans

Happy Writing. Stay Safe. Stay Distracted.

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