The Pony Still Prances

I loathe mending clothes with every fibre of my being. If I can fob it off onto a) a tailor or b) my seamstress sister Blossom, I do. When I am forced to by serious wardrobe malfunctions (ie, clothes falling off one such as happened to me at a recent wedding when a button tore on a fragile 60s dress, forcing me to keep my coat on in the church even though I was about to expire from heat exhaustion) I will sew on a button, or mend a torn seam.

Likewise, ironing is something I leave for months at a time. Preferably when an entire season’s worth of clothing has accumulated in the ironing basket or I have run out of clothes – whichever comes first. Luckily I own a lot of clothes. It is not as torturous a chore as mending, and I can just about muster the energy if I can watch a DVD at the same time. (As long as I have seen the film or episode before, and it’s not in a foreign language – otherwise it’s far too interesting.)

But laundering. I am fanatical about proper laundering. I even have a laundry section on this website (see tag cloud, right).

Let’s first digress and look at some romantic pictures of laundering:

Women Washing Clothes by a Stream, Daniel Ridgway KnightThis woman takes her washing very seriously – as she should, c. 1900–1930It is important to look cute while handwashing, c. 1940s

Clothes will last much longer if they are treated kindly. I remember once a friend told me she just chucked everything into the machine. I was aghast. I had to be picked up from the floor and resuscitated. She was, in fact, one of my inspirations to start this blog. I thought, if there is one young woman who doesn’t know how to properly launder cashmere, there might be hundreds out there. It was my duty to impart my wisdom.

… if there is one young woman who doesn’t know how to properly launder cashmere, there might be hundreds out there.

Today I am going to discuss sequins. There are two sorts of sequins: new ones, and vintage ones.

Take the vintage ones to the dry cleaner. That is all.

If you need convincing, read this cautionary tale: I once owned a delightful short-sleeved, soft black cashmere vintage cardigan that was trimmed in pearl beads. I handwashed it gently in cool water … and watched in horror as the pearl coating floated off the beads, leaving dull plastic behind. The cardigan subsequently went back to the charity shop. It was a lesson to me. Learn from it.

For new shiny garments that you particularly like, obviously check the washing instructions on your garment. Even if it says dry clean only, it may be handwashed gently (at your own risk, but I take such risks all the time and I have not come to grief thus far) and laid flat to dry on a towel or clothes airer. For more detailed instructions click here (although I would not use warm water if the garment is silk). Very delicate evening wear I would take to a dry cleaner.

For new shiny garments that are minimally sequinned and you bought from a charity shop for $4 and don’t particularly care if they live or die, stick them in a lingerie bag and wash with your normal clothes on a gentle cycle. They should be fine; mine was. The pony still prances.

Now if only I could find it in the depths of the ironing basket so I could wear it again …

And my most favourite image of all … Hang onto your clothes like grim death in case they try to escape the washboard. Don’t try this at home! Ph George Marks, c. 1930s