Ironing Shirts

During my working years, and for some time past retirement, the dry cleaner around the corner became my friend.  As a young adult first needing to look professionally appropriate each work day, I realized that permanent press was OK for slacks, not very good for shirts.  I purchased a good iron, which I still have, retrieved an ironing board whose origins I don't really know, and taught myself how to iron shirts.  While the iron had low settings for synthetics, steam worked better.  I got adept at doing this every few weeks.  I didn't mind doing it, though I never advanced in skill beyond good enough.  Eventually I got spoiled by promotions for 99 cents per shirt from a few local laundries, more than worth the time and effort saved.  These were not my around the corner places, but still in proximity of other places I would otherwise drive.  They were probably not profitable to the sponsoring laundries, and eventually disappeared, leaving me to pick a laundry or two either around the corner, en route to work, or in proximity to work as the destination to have my shirts and lab coats laundered regularly and more expensive jackets and suits dry-cleaned periodically.  As I accepted professional employment, the tailored dry-clean clothing exited from the wardrobe and my employer took care of the white coats, leaving me only with shirts.  Shopping for price did not pay, as I was really purchasing convenience, eventually settling for a place around the corner where I could drop off and pick up an accumulation of shirts, often as many as twenty, maybe more sometimes, either on my way to work when they were always open, or on my way home when if I returned before their closing time.  They also became the place to get pants legs hemmed to the right length.

Periodically I would arrive as the owner or his wife were preparing the clothing.  He did not use a hand iron like me.  Instead, he had a professional steamer of impressive output.  With the shirt on a hanger, he would run it over all surfaces, making a uniformly smooth surface requiring only seconds per shirt.

And then the pandemic.  And OLLI.  I rarely wore a full button down shirt.  Sometimes to shul, but even there I found collared knits or mock turtlenecks very convenient, as they did not need a tie.  I could toss everything in whatever load of washing the care label specified, fold it and wear it.  And to a large extent, I went to shul much less, partly due to pandemic limitations and partly to avoid Hebrew School flashbacks generated by the Rabbi's comments.  And my dress shirt wardrobe had accumulated to the dozens.  Eventually I accumulated another twenty or so, returned to my usual laundry after a couple of years, and found some sticker shock.  The going rate for cleaning had soared to $3.50 each, leaving a very big credit card swipe to get them done.   I could buy four new shirts for that sum.  That does not reclassify dress shirts as disposables, but it does cause me to ration their frequency of wear and their professional cleaning.

The casual button downs, those plaids or checks in broadcloth, could just go from the dryer to a hanger.  Anything of Oxford cloth and most solid broadcloth, though, looked wrinkled.  After accumulating and washing eight of them, it was time to restore the iron.  It sits in a nook in my kitchen, retrieved from its basement home some time ago when I needed to apply an iron on decal to something.  The board, though, remained in the basement, where it had become one more flat surface to put stuff indefinitely.  I harvested the surface contents, then brought it upstairs to the den.  I left the spray starch on my workbench in the basement.  

The silicone cover had withstood its time in the basement but the padding did not.  I salvaged as much of it as I could, but it will need to be replaced in the near future.  Then some type of internet How To Iron a Shirt got reviewed.  I filled the iron with tap water, plugged it in, set it to steam mode, and waited for it to heat.  By pressing release, steam emerged from the soleplate as it should.  

Two shirts at a time, four sessions over three days.  Collar first.  Then placket. Then front panels, then back panels, all from the interior surface.  Finally, the sleeves and cuffs from the exterior surface.  Onto a hanger or downstairs hooks.  Ready to go.  Eight restored shirts to wear mainly to synagogue.  Will last a very long time if I get to wear each four times.  Not as good as the dry cleaner man would have done but adequate.  And with the $28 I saved, I can replace the ironing board cover and padding and maybe still have a little left over for a beer or some other treat.