Summer Iron I Must

Once upon a time in Victorian England, servants in castles and manors washed petticoats and cotton sheets by hand, hung them out to dry and ironed them with irons full of hot coal. I guess that is where the word ‘iron’ comes from.

It’s 2024 and we have electric irons now. No more cotton and coal irons. Some people don’t even have irons, because one of the joys of living in cold countries is hiding things. We hide crumpled shirts and t-shirts under those heavy coats. We take them off when we get to work or class without qualms. Everybody is crumpled. Crumpled is the norm. It has even reached fashion houses in Milan, Hong Kong, N.Y. and L.A.

Fabrics are another reason why we don’t iron clothes. Most of what we wear doesn’t need ironing because fabrics are a mish-mash of synthetic fibers. Some fabrics have the label ‘cotton blend,’ but don’t expect me to believe it, the same way I don’t believe the label ‘extra virgin olive oil.’ I cannot prove it.

What I believe though is that some clothes still need ironing, especially during the summer. It’s just me. I’m my mother’s daughter. She didn’t like daughters wearing dresses that looked like they had been chewed by a cow. Mama was born in a big city. Grandparents later moved to a rural area, but they didn’t keep animals. They planted crops. Therefore, I don’t know where mama saw cows chewing grass. Anyway, it’s a moot point because do you think I could have asked her?

And here we are in 2024, I still iron most clothes during the summer. Mama is not here, but I do it for myself. As Coach Prime will say, “You look good, you feel good, you feel good you play good etcetera." I’m not a football player but I do it for the sun. It’s summer, I must celebrate it.

Nonqaba waka Msimang

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