A sentimental journey

 Years ago my sister-in-law gave me a laundry marking kit. It dates from before 1930, and was from her Dutch family stuff. It’s an attractive object, and, because it’s a gift from her, I’ve kept it through many moves.

In the box, there’s a bunch of thin metal sheet stencils, mostly copper. One sheet has part of an alphabet, another has the numbers 0 to 9, there’s repeating motif that looks like it’s for borders, three large fancy letters, a picture of a child with a hoop and stick, and, to my delight, a laurel border motif. The laurel stencil has never been used, and, oddly, is a grey metal. I’m guessing that it wasn’t part of the original kit.

To mark the fabric, there’s a brush, and a tiny china dish with a tablet of blue pigment. I’m guessing it’s the same chemical as laundry bluing – ferric ferrocyanide aka “Prussian blue”.

And the instructions. In three languages, which is oddly nostalgic. We’re so used to multi-lingual instructions; somehow, despite the olde timey font, it makes the kit seem more present.

As for what was originally in the kit, again, I’m guessing. Almost certainly, it had all the letters of the alphabet, though I suspect the fancy individual letters may have been bought separately. I have no idea how many border or image stencils it included. Maybe some came with it, and maybe, like the fancy letters, they might have been bought separately.

The kit has obviously been used; the brush is stained blue, some of the stencils have blue brush marks, and the surface of the pigment tablet has been wetted and rubbed – presumably with the brush.

There are also several things that don’t appear to belong – another tablet of pigment that’s too big for the dish, a pair of tweezers, a tiny ivory-handled crochet hook, and an ivory object that looks like it’s for cleaning under fingernails. I suspect that, at some point, someone tucked them into the box just because they fit.

But I’ve never actually explored using it until a convo with The Sempster nudged me into seeing how it works – or if it still works.

It does. I fished out a scrap of handkerchief linen, wetted the pigment, rubbed the brush over it, and marked the linen using one of the fancy letter stencils. I wet the pigment too much, so it came out wet & blurry, but, with a good light and a bit of squinting, one of the two marks was clear enough to embroider over. So I dug out a skein of cotton embroidery floss and did a bit of quick&dirty embroidery.

Then I washed out the blue. The marking material doesn’t wash out with just water, hot or cold. Since I don’t know how old it actually is, and might predate detergents, I used laundry soap. Though it took some persistence, and much hot water, it did eventually wash out

This was a sentimental practice run with a small, mundane object. Somewhere in the process, I realized that all of the napkins and handkerchiefs that I have that date back to the 1930s or earlier have embroidered monograms. I had assumed that that was just how it was done – a status marker, a way of saying “MINE!”.

That’s probably a large part of the reason, but, essentially, they’re marked so that the laundry gets the right piece back to the right person…

By | May 8th, 2024|embroidery, equipment, laundry, tools|Comments Off on A sentimental journey

The Last of the Pennsic Laundry (and a complaint)

Laundry - the hems of the smocks on the clothesline

I don’t understand why manufacturers scent useful laundry products with unnecessary perfumes! I finally got the last load of Pennsic laundry – the smocks with the draggled hems – done. They’re actually clean – but now, even after most of a day hanging outdoors in the sun, they smell like a laundromat.

With the rain this year, the hems of three of the smocks I wore at Pennsic were very thoroughly soaked with Pennsic’s unique high-iron-content mud, and it looked as if the stains might be permanent. After some research on how to deal with this, I got some OxyClean, pre-treated the hems with (unscented) stain removing soap & washed them with (unscented) detergent & the OxyClean – and the stains actually came out!

Which pleases me no end – but now the smocks reek of OxyClean. Before I can wear them, ll have to wash them again – probably with a vinegar rinse – to get rid of the smell.

I’ve been routinely using unscented laundry products for decades, and can’t believe how powerful – and unpleasant – the smell is! This is the first time I’ve used OxyClean, and there wasn’t a version labelled “unscented” on the shelf.  To see if there is one, I just went to their website & searched on “unscented” and “scent” and got no results. Then I searched on “perfume” and got the page for the baby version, which they claim has no perfume. So I guess next time I’ll buy the baby version – or look for an equivalent product that is labelled “unscented”!

Do detergents have a nasty smell that needs to be covered? If so, why are unscented detergents the same price as the smelly varieties? Or have we been conditioned to think that’s what clean laundry smells like? If the latter, I heartily disagree – but then, I may have the only working clothesline in Kensington Market!

 

 

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By | August 20th, 2016|laundry|1 Comment