Editor Diane demonstrates this simple and satisfying technique
I realise that writing in my Ed’s letter about my love of ironing already marks me out as a little….unusual. And that the further admission that I not only iron my sheets, but actually enjoy ironing the fitted ones, may well tip me into ‘really, you need to get a life’ territory.
But I can’t apologise for the fact that ironing soothes my need to create (pressed) order out of (creased) chaos. And neither can I feel guilty about the joy that it gives me to climb into my comfy bed when it’s been freshly made up with freshly ironed sheets (come on, you know you feel the same when you do that in a hotel).
I also spend so much of my time sitting at my desk (though less so now as I have my monitor and keyboard mounted on a cantilevered arm, so I can stand to work, as, indeed, I am right now), staring at a screen, that it’s a pleasure to do something that involves neither of those things.
Indeed, I find ironing almost hypnotic in its calming effect. Especially when it’s accompanied by a cup of tea and some great music on the radio (jazz if I’m ironing in the evening, pop if it’s morning, since you ask).
Perhaps now you can better understand my frustration in the past when, having carefully ironed a, let’s face it, particularly fiddly fitted sheet, I couldn’t work out how to fold it so that their pressed state was preserved. Imagine, then, my delight when I was shown a method of folding these annoyingly un-cooperative items that not only made them look neat and tidy but also made them easier to iron as well. Result!
Appreciate I’m slipping back (or possibly simply digging myself even further) into sad-person-in-need-of-a-life territory, but I really do think this has the potential to change your life – or at least the bit of it you spend doing laundry.
Watch this video on how to fold a fitted sheet and let me know if you agree!