An iron will?

Day Six of 'The Daily Post'.

When I lived in Scotland, I knew quite a few American families. They came over to do PhDs and took the opportunity to have babies on the NHS. I'm not being cynical - a few of them were very open about how conveniently that worked out for them. One of them shared with me how they enjoyed listening to the local women debate whether it was worth paying 30 pounds a night for a private room in the post-natal ward; she reckoned it would have cost her $5,000 to have her baby in the US.

Let's not get into the health care debate. I'm trying to tell you the story of a conversation I had with a Canadian friend, who was - very tactfully - asking me why British women did so much ironing. The North Americans couldn't understand it. At the time, I considered myself a middle to low intensity ironer: I ironed shirts, tops, trousers, some children's clothes, but not nightwear, bedding, or anything where it wouldn't show. I had friends who ironed tea towels, pyjamas, sheets, towels, the lot (yes, even towels). I was explaining to my Canadian friend how I hardly ironed anything, really, and she replied

"But I literally don't iron anything at all. It's amazing what you can do with a bit of pulling and stretching and smoothing out. This top, for example, I haven't ironed this and I think it looks ok."

That was a seminal moment for me. Before this conversation, I had noticed her top. She was pregnant, and beginning to show, and I had observed that top, thinking how fresh and new it looked, and assuming she'd been shopping and bought some new maternity wear. So there was she, using her cotton jersey top as an example of things she didn't iron, and there was I, admiring the very same top as a pristine garment, straight out of the packet.

I still couldn't quite give up my own ironing habits, although I did try and reduce the amount I did, and I practised that whole pulling and stretching and smoothing out routine. Then when we moved to the US, I decided it was a good opportunity to ditch the ironing altogether, on the basis of 'when in Rome'. And I've never looked back.

In this household, button-up cotton shirts get ironed and trousers if they need it. (Notice how we've moved into the passive voice here, because it wouldn't be strictly true to say "I iron the shirts".) Otherwise, I simply pull and stretch and smooth out, and if the kids' tops and trousers look a bit wrinkled, then I think 'when in Rome', and send them to school anyway. I haven't yet been called in to see the Principal about it.

I don't miss ironing at all. I do miss irony though.

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