‘I’ll come clean, I just love doing laundry’: Whatever feminists think, my six loads a week are like therapy

Call me old fashioned. Call me anti-feminist. Call me Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle. I have a not-so-dirty secret: I love doing laundry.

A full laundry basket delights me. A line of laundry blowing in the breeze makes my heart beat wildly.

And there’s something particularly nice about seeing a pile of clean, neatly folded laundry.

We recently purchased a new washing machine. It has a nifty little hatch through which you can pass those socks that insist on escaping on their way to the machine, and it sings a jaunty tune at the end of the cycle.

I feign indifference, but the truth is that my new machine delights me.

I know, it’s 2023 and this isn’t the kind of thing women like me are supposed to admit.

We are supposed to derive satisfaction from our careers, not from the drudgery of housework, as some 1950s housewives did.

Laundry, like cleaning the bath and making sure the kids have everything they need for the school day, is the kind of thing we women outsource, force our other halves to share, or we squeeze in between high-level board meetings and important calls. It’s not something to revel in.

But I’m no Stepford wife or domestic goddess – there’s probably not more than an inch of (Mrs) Hinch around me.

I happily outsource cleaning and actively avoid washing dishes whenever possible. Luckily, I’m married to a champion washerwoman.

As a journalist, I am a working mother and always have been.

My husband (a lawyer) and I believe it is important that our daughter, age 12, and son, age nine, see us both doing our part on the domestic front.

This is feminism in action – and it matters. Plus, loving laundry doesn’t have to be an exclusively female concern: men can enjoy it too. In this area as in many others, I am entirely for equality.

However, when it comes to doing laundry, the man is not really supervised. And that’s how I like it. Because laundry is my therapy.

Well-being seems to be a slippery, almost nebulous concept. The very idea of ​​navel gazing makes me itch.

I suspect the stress patches Meghan Markle wears would have the same effect – literally. But give me a bunch of laundry to fold…

Before you roll your eyes and scoff, hear me out.

Restoring order from chaos is one of life’s great undertakings. Even on the worst days (arguably, especially the worst days), when everything is going wrong, everyone is in a bad mood, and your to-do list is invincible, doing laundry builds a little pocket control.

The methodical and repetitive rhythm of shaking, folding, smoothing is invigorating.

It’s almost meditative, allowing your mind to wander. It’s an escape from the demands of everyday life.

When juggling work and kids – one of whom has sworn off working out and getting his knees and clothes as muddy as possible – the idea of ​​only having one laundry day per week is laughable. I am a woman who drinks at least six loads a week.

We can control so few things in life, but the wash will always be there. And who doesn’t find joy in clean sheets that smell like fresh air?

I would also argue that any therapy that serves the dual purpose of checking off an item on the nation’s endless list of administrators is a win. In times of stress, I need my free kick.

I even interfered with other people’s laundry. While picking up my son from playdate, my eyes kept drifting to the window: It was clear that rain was imminent.

My friend allowed me to take us both out to save the little ones, just as the first big drops of rain were falling.

I had the distinct impression that my sense of relief was the deepest.

I was invited to a friend’s house for an early evening drink. She rushed us in, apologizing for the state of the house.

My eyes landed on a drying rack groaning under the weight of dry laundry. I politely offered (practically begged) to fold it.

Another friend stood up to help me – and I saw in her the light of another laundry lover.

Our delight knew no bounds when we stumbled upon her “clean and weird sock box” and reunited some long-lost friends.

You see, I am not alone. I message my mother and one of my oldest and dearest friends for “good drying days”. (The heatwave was a gift.) I might even create a WhatsApp group with this title.

When I coyly mentioned my love of laundry on Instagram, far from being criticized for being a bad feminist, as I feared I would be, I received hundreds of messages from other addicts. People love the results, associated with the ritual.

Since then, my laundry-loving followers and friends have debated the merits of various laundry powders; the joy of the perfect clothespin (we can all agree it’s from Nona, made from recycled ocean plastic, no less, at made bynona.com); agitated by the exasperation of an unexpected rain shower; the dizzying heights of the whitest whites.

And we enjoyed wallowing in nostalgia, remembering grandmothers having “laundry day.” How did they manage to wait all week?

Cleaning and laundry influencer Laura Mountford loves laundry so much that she wrote a book about it: Live, Laugh, Laundry: A Calming Guide To Keeping Your Clothes Clean — And You Happy (£16.99, Ebury).

Under the name @lauracleanaholic, she has over 620,000 followers on Instagram.

When we talk, Laura refers to “people like you and me,” which fascinates me. It’s as if I were part of the inner circle of washerwomen.

For Laura, laundry is “cheaper than therapy”; and if you don’t understand that it’s a pleasure and not a chore, then you’re looking at it wrong.

She says it’s all about mindset: “You can view it as work, or turn it around and view it as a time where you disconnect from the other demands of life and enjoy it as an act of personal care.”

It’s Laura’s first port of call when she feels overwhelmed by household chores. “When you don’t know where to start, the answer is your laundry basket. Do this first wash and you’ll be back in control of the day. The rest will find its way.

Sophie Liard, another social media sensation (@thefoldinglady; her tips for folding clothes attract 637,000 followers on Instagram and 4.4 million on TikTok) equates organized, perfectly folded laundry with a calmer, more productive life.

It may even curb your spending habits. “If you adopt a routine with your laundry, fold your clothes correctly: place the ones you wear the most in the most accessible places, then you realize what you have and you buy less,” explains Sophie. See? Laundry can be life changing.

There will always be detractors. People who view laundry as a necessary evil or a household chore.

My husband will never truly understand my love affair with laundry, but if I go out and there is an unexpected shower when there are clean clothes on the line, he knows it will strike fear into my heart and will act quickly.

Is there a more beautiful text from your husband than: “The laundry is done”?

He is right with his “It’s important to you, therefore it’s important to me” approach.

The world would be a better place if we could all move beyond the idea of ​​housework as a menial chore and view it as an act of love.

Stop seeing them as mundane or, worse, a burden, and reframe them as kindness: doing something nice for those you love. Or yourself.

When I look at that neatly folded pile of school uniforms, sheets, towels and socks, I don’t see domestic chores, I see my family.

I see that I did this to care for them and to show that they are loved. This makes sense.

It’s a good thing too, because I hate ironing!