The woman in front of me at church yesterday had on a pretty, plaid blouse. It appeared to be all cotton but had not been ironed. I thought that it would have looked so much nicer had the wrinkles been pressed out. The collar would have laid straight rather than curled up. The cuffs on the short sleeves would have fit her arms better. Lots of people don't iron anymore. A lot of our clothing is non-wrinkle but we still have those items that would benefit from being ironed.
Those who do not iron all have reasons that are understandable. They don't have time, they don't really care how clothes look to others, they don't know how, or for a few, it's a form of rebellion. My mother made me iron; now I don't have to. Or I never should have bought an all-cotton item in the first place.
Ironing was something my mother taught me to do from childhood. As a small child, I had my own collapsible wooden ironing board and small electric iron. It was my job to iron my father's handkerchiefs. I graduated to pillow cases and a bigger ironing board as I grew older. Then, she showed me how to iron my blouses and my dad's shirts so they looked crisp and fresh. When I helped with the ironing during school vacations, Mom and I listened to soap operas on the radio. Today, when I iron, I turn on the tv but I also use the time for mulling over a problem or concern. I find I do my best thinking at the ironing board. More than one story idea has popped up as I do the mindless task before me.
I iron because I want my clothes to look nice; I want to present a finished appearance; I care.
I try to polish my writing drafts for much of the same reasons. I want the editor to think my piece looks finished and well done. I want my writing to have a crisp, polished look. I try to take extra time to achieve those things. I avoid hurrying through, skipping the 'ironing of my story' so I can submit to reach a deadline.
Even if you don't iron the clothes that emerge from the dryer with wrinkles galore, I hope you work on your writing drafts until they look like a fresh white shirt right off the ironing board.