Me versus the Laundry

You may not know this about me (in which case, you clearly don’t know me) … but laundry is the Bain of my Existence. I can’t tell you exactly when it started … perhaps somewhere around my Freshman year of college when I made special trips home once a quarter just so my Mom would do my laundry for me. This might be the cause of my intrinsic need to shop. Imagine, if you will, how many pairs of underwear you need to make it three months without doing laundry. I shopped accordingly.

Once I graduated and had my own house, I had an extra bedroom dedicated solely to my closet and dirty clothes.

When I met my husband, we had a lot of strengths and weaknesses that complimented each other … unfortunately, doing laundry was not a strength for either of us. We once decided that instead of spending the entire weekend doing laundry, we’d pack up all of our dirty clothes, invade the local laundromat, and go out to breakfast while our clothes were cleaned. Turns out, even with a hostile takeover of every machine in the facility, we spent all day (and somewhere around $75) washing, drying, and folding our laundry … only to take it home, too exhausted to put it away. The next morning, we awoke to find it gracing the bedroom floor …. again …

We thought we were pretty stealth about concealing our dirty little secret for a few years … quickly shoving clothes in the closet or piling them from dryer top to ceiling and baracading the folding doors before company arrived. That is, until we showed up a few minutes early at our friends’ house for dinner one evening. Our host was just finishing up with folding a single basket of laundry fresh from the dryer. He looked at our then 10-month old son and said … “I can see that you’re confused by what is happening here. This is called ‘folding the laundry’.” True story. Our cover was officially blown. I’m ashamed to admit that I can’t honestly say I’ve ever completed the entire laundry circuit in a single day–wash, dry, fold, and put away.

(I think it goes without saying that where I lack in the art of laundry, I excel in many other areas. More on that later.)

Meanwhile, back to the point. When my husband first presented me with the concept of the “100 Things Challenge,” my first thought was, literally … think what that would mean for our laundry “situation.” Not … that sounds hard. Or, what would I do with my sentimental family heirlooms? Not … I can’t survive without my [fill in the blank]. But, YES!! If we each only owned two outfits, and washed one set every day, I would never have to fold another article of clothing. Ever. That was it for me. I was sold.

And so, as I entered my closet with reckless abandon, the thoughts of comfort or sentimentality did not faze me … Hibiscus print shirt from that Hawaiian house party in 1998? Alo-ha! That red bridesmaid dress that my best friend promised I could wear again? Not chaperoning a bridesmaid-themed prom anytime soon. Daisy Dukes from my pre-motherhood days? (Let me interject here for a brief moment to point out that while Jessica Simpson and I have *plenty* in common … the need to wear cut-off jeans just barely long enough to cover my derriere, is not one of them.)

So it is, with great enthusiasm, that I finally have a good excuse to wear the same clothes every single day–changing only long enough to wash them for the next day. “You’ll have to excuse me for wearing the same outfit day in and day out … I’m a minimalist. Fascinating, I know, but really, I’m just trying to do my part …”

And now, without further adieu … may I introduce you to … MY CLOSET …

Granted, there are a few items missing. (See aforementioned laundry situation.) But, this is very close to my new reality.

Again, my children embraced the wardrobe consolidation effort. We’re passing along clothes to cousins and friends tomorrow morning. FREEDOM … FREEDOM!

An aside to my husband: Honey, I understand that you are not ready to embrace this whole minimalist lifestyle. I can respect that. Really. I just have to tell you though … Nelly called … He wants his jersey back.