If you're
in doubt about that new tie-dyed T-shirt, I suggest washing it by hand
and saving yourself the embarrassment of an all-purple wardrobe. Not
that anyone would notice in my case.
If the
clothes manage to meet the challenge of the washer, it's on to the dryer
to face blistering heat. At least, that's the case with my dryer, where
there's no such thing as "low heat."
This is
when you truly get the measure of your clothes. These sweatpants, for
example, which if memory serves, used to go all the way down to my ankles.
Thank goodness culottes are in style.
If you
have any doubt over whether to throw an article of clothing into the
dryer, once more, the best option is to line dry it. Especially if it's
made out of denim. This is why you can never find jeans in a secondhand
store, because all the jeans that are labeled your size have been thrown
in the dryer and are now two sizes smaller.
If in
doubt, read the label, and this is the important part
believe what you read. If the label tells you it needs to be washed
gently by hand and dried flat, that's what you need to do. Unless, of
course, you're trying to create an entire wool wardrobe for your doll
collection.
You may
notice I have failed to mention the mysterious and harrowing adventures
of socks in the laundry. This is because I've been told there is a solution
to the age-old mystery. Evidently, socks are small enough to get sucked
up into filters and such inside of dryers. I've been told that if you
take a screwdriver and open up the side of your dryer, you will find
them all.
I would
test this theory except that the last thing I took apart with a screwdriver
is still lying around in pieces. And sock devourer or not, I believe
a dryer has to be in tact to work.
Once the
clothes have once more met the challenge of laundry day, they are treated
to closing ceremonies, or in this case folding ceremonies. Or closing
drawer ceremonies.
OK, I've
officially taken this analogy too far, and I expect to lose a point
for execution. Judges?