Opinion:
We'll call her Anne. The first thing you noticed about Anne was the state of her jet-black hair – oily. Not just teenage oily, but not-washed-in-weeks oily.
When you got closer to Anne you realised it wasn't just the hair – her and hygiene were no Mel and Kim.
Anne's childhood hadn't been a good one and she was under the care of the Department of Social Welfare, as it was in the 1980s. They decided to send her to boarding school and Anne ended up in the bed next to me.
She was troubled but not horrible. Anyway, each term you were moved and got new cubicle mates, I told myself. But hold up. Next term, Anne and I were paired up again, and the next.
The matrons had decided I was a good influence on her with my insistence all girls – not just the seniors – had a right to a daily shower and my obsession with doing my laundry.
Anne had a simple solution for dealing with her dirty knickers - stuff them down the side of her bed. I never did get her out of that habit.
Today is National Laundry Day in the United States. I've never heard of it before but it's amazing what Google spins up. In the mid-1800s, Emmett Lee Dickinson established April 15 as National Laundry Day. He had invented the laundry basket on wheels, according to a Pennsylvania museum named in his honour, and would urge others to join his crusade for national cleanliness.
My own personal crusade led me to ask the night matron to wake me at 5.30am so I could do a midweek wash. A friend joined me and we would trudge down to the laundry room with its agitator machines - tired but happy in the knowledge there'd be no queuing.
Now I relish my laundry freedom - I can wash my clothes when I want, how I want and dry them where I want. Today I pause and give thanks I don't have to use a washboard and soap, I don't have to string my delicates between my apartment and my neighbour's fearing my favourite black bra will drop on the head of a passing dignity.
One of the Wellington flats I lived in was 90 steps up and the shared washing line was even more steps away. My flatmate ingeniously strung up a washing line for us on our deck - not only did we not have to climb steps but it also faced north. Then our landlord got in touch and said the neighbours didn't like seeing our washing from their house. Seriously! I can't remember the outcome but I'd like to think we kept that line.
Here in Manawatū, we have plenty of wind and sun to make the most of nature's dryer. The pull-down washing lines new houses have are partly to save space but I'm sure some of it is to keep the drying of one's clothes hidden. I like seeing washing on my neighbours' lines - it's a heartwarming sign they are home and engaged in domestic chores. And my eyesight isn't good enough to be checking how white their whites are and whether they succeeded in getting that tomato sauce stain out of their son's T-shirt.
Gran always told us to never wash on New Year's Day as we might wash someone out of our lives. She was serious but I'm not aware of anyone in my family who followed her advice. In my darker moments, I wondered if you said someone's name 10 times as you filled the washing machine up they would indeed disappear.
Talking about disappearing, if you don't usually do the laundry in your household, how about celebrating National Laundry Day by giving it a go. Or wait until next year!