š§ŗ The Art of Hanging Laundry: Embarrassing or Eco-Friendly?
Question: How do you spell control? Answer: L-A-U-N-D-R-Y
Iāll say it again: easy tasks become difficult when you live abroad. After two months of studying, Iām still not ready to take the theoretical driving testāboo (the questions are designed to be tricky). But last week, I finally figured out how to weigh and tag my produce at the grocery store without causing chaos at the checkoutāhooray! Hereās to celebrating small winsāthe small and banal bullet points on the oh-so-tiny list, titled āthings I can control.ā While I still donāt know what size I am in any clothing store (what woman does?), hanging the laundry is a delightful life task Iāve embraced and mastered in Spain.
Unlike the United States, having a clothes dryer in Spain is uncommon. Most people hang their laundry to dry on clotheslines outdoors or on a tenedero (drying rack) indoors. It feels, for lack of a more sophisticated description, very European. Many Spaniards live in apartments with space for a washer, but not a separate dryer. Forgoing a dryer saves energy and money, as utilities can be expensive. Plus, many places in Spain enjoy a relatively dry climate with low humidity for most of the year. Living dryer-free is an easy and culturally normative way to be more eco-friendlyāthat is, unless you live in Northern Spain where rainy days reign supreme, or suffer from seasonal allergies.
Like many Spanish homes, our home has a front-loading washing machine in the kitchen. Itās smaller than most US models but fits a set of sheets and pillowcases. Because Iām not afraid of heights and despise moldy and sweaty fabric stank, I became a self-taught student in the art of laundry hanging. With our active lifestyles and working from home in an apartment with limited closet space, ālaundry dayā is approximately every 1-2 days. After my initial mistake with āeco-modeā (how on Mother Earth does a three-hour cycle save energy?), I finally found my favorite machine setting: a 52-minute cold water wash with the highest spin.
Doing laundry is all fun and games from April through November, when the daylight hours are many and the humidity levels are low. But winter laundry presents a challenge with a shorter daylight time window, rainstorms, and wind gusts. I've dashed outside several times to rescue our clothes from an unforecasted downpour, but it never annoys meāsomehow, it adds to the drama (quickādonāt drop the clothespins!) and allure (okay, I might need more hobbies).
In all seasons, I love min-maxing the placement, putting the heavier cotton items on the line, positioned where they'll receive the maximum sunlight. To prevent fading, I expertly turn clothes inside out. I have my clothespin technique down to a surface area science. It might be true that Iāve rehung things after my husband has given it a goāI swear it's about optimizing drying time and reducing wrinkles, not being a control freakā¦
Navigating the clothesline pulley system without dropping anything into the shared courtyard below adds an element of thrill. To date, I've lost one bath towel to merciless wind gustsāits whereabouts are still unknown. Also, who knew choosing clothespins could be such an existential climate change consumer dilemma? I hate to admit it, but the big, colorful plastic ones are the ones I reach for firstāthey have undeniably stronger staying power, leave fewer pressure marks on the fabric, and are easier to handle.
We havenāt gotten around to buying an iron yet, and I think itās because we work from home I've mastered the art of hanging clothes so well that they emerge wrinkle-free. A steamer would be handy to make all fabrics look off-the-rack ready. In a pinch, thereās a dry cleaner around the corner that does a good clean shirt press.
When I tell Americans we donāt have a dryer, people ask: āBut what about your underwear?ā Itās a fair question and it cracks me up thinking about it whenever I share a ride with a neighbor in the tiny elevator in our building. I think: āWeāre just gonna talk about the weather and try not to make eye contact in such close physical proximity all while knowing weāve already seen each otherās underwear? Vale (okay).ā Despite the mutual exposure of our undergarments, to my knowledge, no neighbor has ever complimented someone on their Miami Vice print boxer briefs. It's a hilarious, yet unspoken community bond.
This practice of hanging laundry undeniably saves energy and money, making a positive environmental impact. Yet, I do pine for the scent of freshly dried clothesāsometimes the air-dried fabrics smell suspiciously less like mountain air freshness and more like city smog. I miss the fancy steam function on my momās dryer which is great for freshing up and disinfecting pillows. I ponder over suavisantes (fabric softeners) at the store but never buy them due to their environmental impact. I dream of towels that smell like a Miley Cyrus song and feel like a hug from a Downy commercial.
There is precious little I can control in this world, but oh, how I love the art of hanging laundry. I canāt hurry bureaucracy, but I can keep my armpit fabric smelling fresh and thatāll have to be good enough.