Reflections of doing laundry as an apartment dweller

There sits behind me at the moment a substantially large mountain of freshly washed and dried laundry. For a myriad of reasons, we usually do large volumes of laundry in one fell swoop (it's ultimately easier to go that route, we find, when you don't have a washer and drier in your own apartment unit), yet never in the course of the three and a half years we've lived in this building has such a massive volume been done at one time.

The reason for the chunkiness of this pile stems from both ill health keeping us from the laundry room as of late, as well as a desire to wash and freshen up many out-of-season garments in preparation for our move in two weeks.

Nearly $60.00 in washer and dryer fees later, dozens of garments and linens are stacked on the dinning room table, the last of which was brought upstairs shortly before the laundry room closed at 10pm last night. Today, amidst several other tasks, we'll begin to fold and sort this great wall of laundry.

While there will no doubt be a trip or two more to the poorly heated, often majorly over-crowded basement laundry facilities of this building before we part ways for good, this is definitely the last large haul we'll do. Not only, if luck is on our side, in the building, but (dare I say) ever.

Our new home, a charming little townhouse, has it's own (free, as in not coin operated!) washer and dryer in the basement, a point that seems like a longstanding wish of mine has finally come to fruition.

As such, we can now do a load a day, if so desired, or designated one day a week for laundry. Whatever we want. Budgeting for the laundry, devoting several hours at a time to going upstairs and down, rationing clothes until laundry day arrived (or, as was sometimes the case, washing them by hand in the bathtub), is nearly behind us.

My husband and I truly hope that the house we're moving into will be the last we rent before we're able to one day purchase our own home, which - of course! - would also have its own washer and dryer.

So hence while, as I said, if the universe is in the mood to cooperate, this could very well be a much anticipated end to years upon years of having of not having in-house laundry and of having to pay out of pocket in the moment for each and every load.

{Like the cute little girl in this lovely vintage image, I could see myself being so enamoured with the washer and dryer in our new home, that I'd pull up a chair and just watch the clothes tumble about for a while. Delighting in the fact that I didn't have to take an elevator down 23 floors any more and pay an arm and leg for the sake of clean clothing. Charming 1940s illustration via saltycotton on Flickr.}

Seemingly simple, mundane things like this cause my heart smile. Having our own washer and dryer makes my life a lot easier and will be one less thing for me to worry about in the course of my day-to-day life. It is, in its own way, a blessing and one that I couldn't be more grateful for.

Though our new place have enough of a yard to string a clothesline in, I don't doubt that I'll pin a pillowcase or two to any available surface outside during the warm months, so as to take the joys of doing laundry one step further and be able to fall asleep with the comforting scent of freshly washed and sun-kissed, air-dried bedding lulling me off to sleep.

So as I limber up for a marathon of folding laundry today and over the weekend, I do so happily, knowing that each moment I spend matching up socks and putting away towels brings me a little closer to our moving day and the new house, complete with washer and dryer, that is waiting for us in British Columbia.

Daydreaming about candy coloured vintage laundry rooms

✯ Day 323 of Vintage 365 ✯

Like many people who live in an apartment (especially a rented one), I do not have laundry facilities in my unit. Though we're fortunate to have a small number (way, way to small for the size and population of our building) of washers and dryers in the basement, and thus not have to technically leave our building to clean our clothes, I can’t help but find myself daydreaming sometimes about how great it will be when one day we get to live somewhere with our own washer and dryer again.

This isn't the first place I've called home that didn't come part and parcel with a washer and dryer, but in accessing all the homes I've lived in (from childhood onwards), more have definitely had a laundry room of their own than did not.

On those days when we're schlepping baskets and bags (the large blue $0.99 Ikea bags they sell near the checkouts are very sturdy and make for an excellent way to carry laundry, if you need something a bit bigger than your average plastic basket) downstairs and back up for hours, I sometimes help pass the time by thinking about the sort of dream laundry room I'd build if I had the means (and space!).

Part of me is very, very drawn to a sort of rustic chic, British manor house style down up in pale shades of cream and white, perhaps with hits of robin's egg blue or pale celadon, complete with porcelain or enamel sinks. All very understatedly posh and timelessly wonderful, I assure you.

And then (not surprisingly! ) there's the other side of me who yearns for a 1950s inspired laundry room, styled in candy inspired pastels, like the beautiful one from the 1959 pictured below to call my own.

{Wonderfully colourful, spacious 1950s laundry room image, which first appeared in the April 1959 edition of American Home magazine, via saltycotton on Flickr.}

 

More than the delightful colours at work here, I think it's the sheer size of the this vintage laundry room - with space to not only house a washer, dryer, sewing counter, and storage cabinets, but also a quaint table and fun pink bucket chair - that appeals to me.

I'm also rather partial to the great pull-out storage drawers this lucky lady had in which to sort her lights, colours, darks, delicates and so on. Very, very handy and also nicely discrete thanks to the fact that they tuck neatly away behind the brown wooden cabinet door.

The idea of having one's sewing machine in the same space as their washer and dryer is also fantastic - and immensely practical. Think of how often you discovers a loose (or missing button), sock that needs darning, or fallen hem as you're loading or unloading garments from the wash. With a sewing machine mere steps away, I think it would be very easy (and convenient) to quickly attend to the garment in the moment, instead of letting a mending pile accumulate elsewhere in the house for days or weeks on end (I'm big on tackling little chores like that as they occur, as I find doing so creates the sense of less work in the long run).

For the time being though, I'll continue to trek to the basement to do laundry and carry out my mending in the living room (I don't have a sewing machine, so I hand mend), grateful that we at least have on-site washers and dryers, but at the same time optimistic about the prospect of the day when I get a laundry room of my own to decorate in whichever classic, vintage inspired style my heart desires.