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Writer's pictureKristina Lang

And say it's not love/I recite da to nije ljubav

Updated: Mar 7, 2022

In addition to cooking, ironing was a very important activity, most often for women, but also for some men in Croatia when I lived there. Nearly everything gets ironed, from towels and bed linen to undershirts and fine shirts. Many people in Croatia ironed at least once a week, and for most it was a strain, although some enjoy the activity. My grandmother developed ironing to perfection. Her sheets were so perfectly ironed that she would not be ashamed in the best hotel anywhere in the world. Everyone in my family was actually very skilled at ironing. For my dad no one could iron his trousers as well as he did, and my brother ironed his shirts so professionally that they looked like they had just been bought at an elite store. I think I started ironing at the age of 12 and that was considered a trait of a well-raised girl at the time.

And then in my early thirties I arrived in England where the general opinion that ironing is a waste of time is valid. Over time, I agreed and adopted this view, but it took at least a decade of living in England. At first, I ironed everything and to the surprise of my Indian friend, even Sara’s clothes when she was still a child of kindergarten age. My friend was in wonder of my ironing, and I was in wonder at her who didn't iron. On one occasion at work, an exceptionally beautiful and always well-dressed German colleague asked me:

"Kristina, it's a regular working day, and you have an ironed shirt."

I said "Yes, and?"

She laughed and asked, "How often do you iron?"

"Once a week" I replied because it was like that then.

"Well, as much as you iron per month, that much I do per year."

And so somehow under the influence of the environment I slowly started to change my habits. First, I stopped ironing towels, then bed linen, then undershirts and cotton T-shirts. I would dry everything nicely halfway in the dryer, and put it on a drying rack, store it neatly in the closet and that was it.

When buying goods, I also started to be careful not to buy what needs to be ironed. Ironing is gone from my weekly routine. My daughter doesn't iron, and my brother criticizes me for not teaching her that, but I think if she needs it she will learn.

But recently I bought a nice summer cardigan that after washing somehow didn't look so nice anymore. I realized what was annoying to me, the sleeves were crumpled. I decided to iron it, along with two shirts that had been in the closet for over 6 months.


And while I was ironing my shirt, suddenly I thought how much I would enjoy ironing the shirts of the man I love. And now you tell me it's not love.


Kristina

Friday, June 11th, 2021








I recite da to nije ljubav


Uz kuhanje, peglanje je bilo vrlo važna aktivnost, najčešće za žene, ali i za neke muškarce u Hrvatskoj kad sam tamo živjela. Gotovo se sve ispegla, od ručnika i posteljine do potkošulja i finih košulja. Mnogi su ljudi u Hrvatskoj peglali barem jednom tjedno, a za većinu je to bio napor, iako neki uživaju u toj aktivnosti. Moja baka je peglanje razvila do savršenstva. Plahte su joj bile tako savršeno ispeglane da se ne bi posramila u najboljem hotelu bilo gdje na svijetu. Svi u mojoj obitelji zapravo su bili vrlo vješti u peglanju. Za mog tatu nitko nije mogao ispeglati njegove hlače kao on sam, a moj je brat peglao košulje tako profesionalno da su izgledale kao da su upravo kupljene u elitnoj trgovini. Mislim da sam počela peglati s 12 godina i to se u to vrijeme smatralo osobinom dobro odgojene djevojke.

A onda sam u ranim tridesetima stigla u Englesku gdje vrijedi opće mišljenje da je glačanje gubitak vremena. S vremenom sam se složila i usvojila ovo gledište, ali trebalo je barem desetljeće života u Engleskoj. Isprva sam peglala sve i na iznenađenje svoje prijateljice Indijanke, čak i Sarinu odjeću dok je još bila dijete vrtićke dobi. Moja se prijateljica čudila mojem glačanju, a ja njoj koja nije peglala. Jednom prilikom na poslu, izuzetno lijepa i uvijek dobro odjevena njemačka kolegica pitala me je:

"Kristina, običan je radni dan, a ti imaš ispeglanu košulju."

Rekla sam "Da, i?"

Nasmijala se i upitala: "Koliko često peglaš?"

"Jednom tjedno" odgovorila sam jer je tada bilo tako.

"Pa, toliko koliko ti mjesečno peglaš, toliko ja godišnje."

I tako sam nekako pod utjecajem okoline polako počeola mijenjati svoje navike. Prvo sam prestala peglati ručnike, zatim posteljinu, pa potkošulje i pamučne majice. Sve bih lijepo osušila do pola u sušilici, i stavila na stalak za sušenje, uredno spremila u ormar i to je bilo to.

Kupujući robu, također sam počela paziti da ne kupujem ono što treba ispeglati. Glačanje više nije dio moje tjedne rutine. Moja kći ne pegla, a brat me kritizira što je nisam naučiola tome, ali mislim da će, ako će joj trebati, naučiti.

Ali nedavno sam kupila krasnu ljetnu vesticu koja nakon pranja nekako više nije izgledala tako lijepo. Shvatila sam što mi smeta, rukavi su bili zgužvani. Odlučila sam ga glačati, zajedno s dvije košulje koje su bile u ormaru više od 6 mjeseci.

I dok sam peglala košulju iznenada sam pomislila kako bih uživala peglajući košulje muškarca kojeg volim. I sad mi recite da to nije ljubav.


Kristina

Petak, 11. lipnja 2021.

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