Real Frenchmen Iron

Wash and wear is just not done here in Paris. Creases of the pressed variety are definitely in. A little revelation among many I have discovered living in a different culture is the importance the French people place on their laundry. It is a big deal here in 21st century France.

My romantic French boyfriend spends at least 2 evenings per week slaving over his ironing board. I have witnessed him in action - he is a whiz at speed ironing. It really is sort of sexy in a domestic kind of way. He irons almost EVERYTHING - including bath towels and dishcloths. He bears some guilt of being a slacker because he now skips ironing socks and underwear (his mother would never even THINK of such transgressions!)

I have noticed that he is not the only ironing French person I have met. The whole society seems to iron lots more than we Americans do - at least where I come from. There actually are some practical reasons behind this ubiquitous practice. For one thing dryers are still relatively uncommon. MFM considers them bad for his clothes (he probably has a point). But when you dry a towel for example by hanging it, it dries into a scratchy and stiff piece of sandpaper - hardly the fluffy blanket of warmth you want to reach for as you step out of the shower. So, you iron it.  Though other reasons, at least for me, make little sense. Dishcloths for one. I just do not see the point in ironing something that you are immediately going to get all wet and wrinkled with the pot and pans from dinner.

MFM sees it another way. It is  simply part of taking care of the house properly. He irons all his t-shirts and his son's too. He would never even think of putting on a wrinkled t-shirt even to just wear to bed. My California casual sensibility towards such things is definitely frowned upon. It just proves to him that we Americans were not raised properly!

I have learned that the domestic arts, if you want to call them so, have not been lost in France. This really is part of the country's charm. It would never do to set a French table with wrinkled linens - it would almost make the food taste bad. And to tell you the truth, there is something to a proper table with nicely pressed napkins that demands respect for the tradition of sharing a meal a famille. Not such a bad thing.

I have to laugh when I remember arriving at a house in Provence that we rented a couple summers ago. The agent was showing me around and he came to the laundry room. He proudly displayed the fully equipped facilities with 2 washing machines (washing machines in France can be minuscule in size). I searched the room for the dryer. Isn't there a dryer? I inquired. Of course Madam! It is right over here......Voila......and he unfolded a plastic rack. Une grande dryer -  Big American style. He was so proud of the 5 foot tall rack, I didn't have the heart to complain.

So in France I am beginning to iron more than I ever have in my life. I am still not even close to the standard set by MFM. But just like the man who refuses to learn how to cook so he will always be served - I may plead ineptitude for similar reasons....hey if it works, why not?

Comments

[Stacy]

You must not have gotten the ironing gene. Greg loves to iron. : )