I don’t care for irony. Why do people care if you have wrinkles in your clothes anyway? I mean… you do not see older people trying to get the wrinkles out of their skin, do you? Embrace the character, I say. Besides, who decided that crisp, unwrinkled clothes were the pinnacle of sophistication? If anything, it just means you have a good iron or are on a first-name basis with your dry cleaner.
Speaking of which, what’s the deal with dry cleaners? Why would anyone want to pay someone to not even clean their clothes? It’s right there in the name—”dry” cleaner. If I’m paying someone to clean my clothes, I would at least expect them to be washed and not just dusted off with a magical solvent. I want them to come back smelling like a gentle sea breeze with a hint of lilacs just before a rainstorm blows upon the White Cliffs of Dover.
Imagine walking around wrapped in the aroma of poetic landscapes and floral serenity. People would stop you on the street, their noses twitching, and ask, “What is that enchanting scent?” And you could smile mysteriously and reply, “It’s a bespoke blend from my dry cleaner. They’re practically an alchemist.”
Sadly, I’m not aristocratic enough to afford dry cleaning, so I take a trip to the laundromat instead. I used to wonder what the ‘mat’ in laundromat stood for but recently learned it’s believed to be a combination of laundry and automat. An automat is where you can buy food from vending machines, so, you know, you can stain the clothes you just washed all over again. I also started noticing some even have slot machines now. There would be a certain irony to losing your shirt, gambling at the laundromat, and not having enough quarters to finish your laundry. Then, you might need to borrow some change from one of the many reputable people hanging around laundromats. Next thing you know, you are somehow involved in money laundering. At that point, you will have much more to worry about than just a few wrinkles in your clothes. Like I said, I don’t care for irony.