The only time I ever enjoyed ironing was the day I accidentally got gin in the steam iron.
Time passes and the pain begins to roll in and out as though it’s a woman standing at an ironing board, passing the iron back and forth, back and forth across a white tablecloth.
Ironing boards are a classic example of something I find horrible about modern society: the excitementation, for want of a better word, of mundane things.
I still can't set up the ironing-board. A complete Luddite.
A kitchen without an ironing board? Are you kidding? It's un-American. It's like Simon without Garfunkel.
Sophia Loren is the embodiment of what a woman should be -- the epitome of femaleness. Most of the young people today are just ironing boards.
Radio, sewing machine, bookends, ironing board and that great big piano lamp - peace, that's what I like. Butterbean vines planted all along the front where the strings are.
In Sardinia one summer my best friend Marisa Berenson and I ironed each other's hair. We used a hot laundry iron and took turns putting our hair on the ironing board, literally ironing it. That's a recipe for straightening that may be highly successful, but is definitely not recommended.
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