I love my laundry line. It broke about 3 weeks ago, and today was its first day back up and running. I was very happy to see my laundry obediently hanging in the sun…I think that you either like a laundry line or you don’t….although maybe it is genetically encoded. One thing for sure is that we privileged enough to live in north america, can choose whether to hang our clothes to dry or not. Anyone who has travelled overseas knows that electricity rates are steep compared to ours; thereby necessitating extremely efficient appliances, and fostering an understanding that each citizen has a personal responsibility to use electricity wisely.
The first time I saw laundry lines stretching across one building to another, in Italy, I was bemused and appreciative. In fact, some apartments shared lines that ran across streets, not just alleys. Laundry lines appear to be extensions of community interaction. One woman pulling her laundry in, the other putting her laundry out. A mutual awareness of the need to take turns, wave hello and share some gossip…although, admittedly, I never understood what was being called out. It seemed juicy and festive in Italian and somewhat annoyed or insistent in French!
Then I found myself appraising the various undergarments. Some flats exhibited brashly their collection of beautiful bras, thongs, and briefs; while others simply hung out the faded boxers and stretched polyester granny panties. I loved it all. Unabashedly, they were hung row upon row, high end next to low end. The former telling the world they have it all going on!, while the latter says I’m a little too tired to make the effort..
I think that we should seriously consider using laundry lines for many reasons: it is great for the environment, it makes our clothes smell fresh, but most importantly it will remind us to always have nice looking undergarments….you never know where that will lead you;)..just sayin’:) Happy Saturday!
summerhill still life 