Dear SOS!,
Fine, I'll put it out there. I am a self-professed laundry-loather. Don't get me wrong; I'm a generally clean person, but I just don't have the time and or desire to make the journey down three flights of stairs and devote a third of my day to enslaving myself to a bundle of clothes. What are some ways I can postpone this process or simply find a way to make the unwearable bearable?
Sincerely,Laundry Lame-o
Dear Laundry Lame-o,
I feel your pain. As a girl who once scoffed at the idea of vintage clothing ("eww, who knows what those retro stains are ... Spam was REALLY big back in the 50's"), and double-layered public toilets with seat covers AND paper towels, I can admit that I no longer flaunt the degree of cleanliness I once could.
In fact, these past two months have practically turned me into a crazy vintage-shopping ('sup Davis Square Goodwill?), dirty-footed (hello ... ATO + sandals = death) hippie! Even looking beyond my "out-housing" and "yum-yumming" wilderness pre-orientation past, I can fully admit that college has made me a generally dirtier person.
Knowing both those people who do their laundry on a weekly basis, and those who have yet to do it at all (even worse: she plays on a varsity sports team), I consider myself to be the median of my laundry-doing peer-group. I have done my laundry thrice thus far, and each time have put it off until the last possible minute.
Aside from the fact that I once ventured into the uncharted dirty laundry bag to find a wearable shirt, I feel that I am well equipped to advise your query.
It can be easy to get away with re-wearing certain genres of clothing, i.e. pajamas and jeans. Clothing re-worn within its realm of use is standard (yes, it may seem gross to put on the same slinky beer-smelling tank you wore to the frats two weeks ago, but let's admit it: if it doesn't already smell like death, it will later that night).
Although, it is important to note a certain "Lizzie McGuire Movie"-esque caveat: if you are going to stick to the re-wearing technique, make sure to skip at least a week between use, and NEVER become an entire outfit repeater.
Even worse, though, than outfit repetition, is re-cycling the few items where recurring use is just simply unacceptable. "Unacceptable" can be defined by the repetition of any article of clothing from the triple threat: underwear, socks, or towels.
A certain aforementioned varsity athlete I know cited the "reversal" technique as her way to address the need for clean underwear. Let's make it clear that inside-outed clothing should be reserved ONLY for instances such as "opposite day," which, unfortunately, won't come around again until next October 3.
Although the topic of underwear is very clear-cut when it comes to judging the need for laundering, towels and socks may not follow in quite the same category. Socks worn around the dorm (provided you dust-bust regularly) can be re-used. It's the used gym socks I would think twice about neglecting their placement in the laundry bag.
The verdict on towels is dubious: considering you are drying your clean body, there really should be no issue with re-using a towel every so often. However, if the towel has either a) been dropped on the floor (what's with those bootleg stick-on hooks anyways?) or b) been used after a Vegas-showgirl themed party (read: cakey glitter eye-makeup), laundry is truly your only option.
When it finally comes down to it, doing laundry is an integral part of the college experience: there are the "OMG, I was totz on the phone with my mom the first time I did my laundry" commentaries, as well as shared reminiscence about the lone shrunken wool sweater that "accidentally" made its way into the dark load (admit it, you were just too lazy or cheap to dry clean it).
Doing laundry can even carve away 97 precious minutes in which you can catch up on some Psych reading, max out your points at the vending machines, or, in my case, listen to Romanian techno while building a house of cards.
The laundry room is also probably the cleanest, best-smelling room in your hall: take advantage of the situation by letting your nasal cavities self-cleanse. Plus, next time you are on an awkward date, you can time it so that your dryer ends right after you've put in an appetizer order. That way you can use your "phobia of wrinkled clothes and thus imminent need to fold your fresh laundry" excuse to make a quick getaway in a time of desperation.
