Iron On
I actually ironed a shirt this morning. It's one of my recent H&M purchases, a white button-up with wide cuffs. I am certain that in typical H&M style, it will last approximately 3.5 washings before disintegrating into thin air. but who cares, I needed a white shirt after suddenly realizing that the other white button up I've been wearing makes me look like I'm auditioning for the role of secretary in a Mamet play--too tight and inappropriate for work and looking as though a button might pop off and get you in the eye at any second. After many, many, many episodes of What Not to Wear, I'm finally getting the message that I need to buy clothes that fit, rather than those that make me look like pin-up girl and not in a good way. So, ironing this morning made me remember how my mom used to let me iron my stepdad's handkerchiefs and their pillowcases when I was in elementary/middle school (by the time high school rolled around, I was like, Yeah, no thanks). We...