My relationship with irons has never been one of love. They are hot and yet they require you to pour water into a tiny hole at the top which then leaks on to the irons surface, sizzling and spitting as it goes down. Not to mention the electrical chord which constantly flips in front of the iron tempting it to melt the plastic protection, short circuit the whole thing and create its own set of fireworks, whilst throwing you across the room. And so for the majority of my life I have stayed far far away from them.
When I was younger, still at home, and wanting money, my mum used to pay me to iron, I got quite good at ironing my dads shirts, 20p each. I was also allowed to watch 'Home and Away' whilst doing this so it was win win for everyone (especially my mother who sensibly delegated the ironing tasks of the house to someone else, a lesson for us all). Then of course there was that minuscule ironing board we had in Thailand, 4 inches off the floor and about a foot long, I would desperately iron my teaching skirts every morning sat cross legged on the floor trying not to burn myself. Since then I have avoided ever buying clothes that involve ironing. I have a shirt at the moment which is supposed to be wrinkled, perfect!
It turns out though that the iron might just turn out to be my friend after all. All the sewing means that sometimes, sometimes, I have to get the iron out and iron down my seams (yawn yawn...but it does make things look better and easier to sew). And I found some new toys and now it seems the iron might be the best thing ever.
Check out my bias binding maker...
There was one casualty though.
Lots of Love