Ironing: why bother?

Quite what is the point of ironing? I’ll help you out here: none.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not some kind of useless domestic failure. I love cooking, I’m one of those weirdos that actually enjoys cleaning and tidying and I’m a whizz at organising my daughter’s school/social life. However, ironing can just go swivel.

It’s times like this that I don’t feel like a proper woman. I’m fully aware that that sentence alone smacks of sexism. Just because I don’t iron, why does this make me less of a woman? Now *I* know it doesn’t make me less of a woman and you dear reader, will probably (hopefully) feel like it doesn’t make me less of woman. However, according to a recent study, women do all the ironing in 4 out of 5 households in the UK. Also, when 95% of my female friends all iron and talk about their huge piles of ironing that they have to get done, it’s usually met with either a blank look from yours truly, a slightly disingenuous “oh dear, how depressing” utterance or a hilarious suggestion that they should just get drunk to get through the ironing. In my head, it is also predictably met with “why the fuck do you have to do the ironing every time. What’s wrong with your husband’s arms?”. It is also met with “what even is ironing?”.

So confession time.

I’ve never ironed in my life.

I don’t even own an iron.

Thus, my child’s clothes don’t even get ironed. Not even her school uniform.

Yep, as I was saying. I sometimes don’t feel like a proper woman. Or at least a stereotyped version of a woman. And I definitely don’t feel like an adult, but that could be for a whole host of reasons. Probably best not to pull on that thread right now.

You see, I just don’t see the point. Ironing takes up a lot of time. According to this new study, on average, a woman will spend around 3,000 hours of her life ironing a pile of clothes that is four times taller than the height of the Shard building. Mate, life is too short for that. I can think of better ways to spend my time. Such as watching TV (yeah I know I could iron and watch TV at the same time, but call me foolish, but I like to sit and relax whilst I watch RuPaul’s Drag Race. I know us women are meant to be good at multi-tasking, but we really shouldn’t have to do it all the time), reading, baking, tickling my 7 year old until she vomits (true story, I’ve achieved this several times. It’s a mark of good parenting. Trust me*) blogging about why I don’t iron or anything but ironing.


But aren’t all your husband’s shirts creased, I hear you cry?

  1. The state of my husband’s shirts are solely not my responsibility. If he wants pristine, crease free shirts, he can buy an iron and iron the fuckers himself.
  2. We have found that hanging his shirts up in the bathroom whilst he has a shower, pretty much leaves them crease-free anyway. This is how lazy people try and make themselves look presentable, people. Feel free to take note.

But don’t you feel guilty sending your child to school with a creased uniform?

Nope. Next question.

No, but really don’t you?

Look, her polo shirts don’t really crease and if they are a bit creased, they tend to sort themselves out after hanging in the wardrobe for a bit. Same goes for the dresses. Her pinafore dresses cover most of the shirts anyway, so even if there are a few creases left, nobody will bloody see them anyway. Plus, she’s 7. If you can’t have slightly creased clothes at 7 years old, when can you?

But I find ironing really relaxing. It’s like meditating for me.

Good for you, but it’s not for me. I find drinking copious amounts of Pinot Grigio whilst cyber stalking ex-boyfriends meditative. We all find our peace in different ways.

Sometimes, I feel quite alone with my opinion that ironing is the biggest waste of time. I know there are kindred non-ironing spirits out there. I just feel like either I’m seriously behind society with my lack of ironing participation OR myself and other non-ironers have discovered something that others are yet to (non-iron) cotton on to. And that is, there is literally no point in ironing. In fact, I’d go as far to say that I feel it was designed purely to enslave women to their domestic chores. I’m making a serious point here guys**. Chucking your iron away is as good as burning your bra.

So, are you with me or against me? Do you love your iron or like me, do you never touch one?

*Don’t ever trust me.

**I may be hyperbolising with my theory here