I have a love/hate relationship with ironing.  On the one hand, I love the instant gratification that comes from running a hot iron over lightly spritzed cotton...the sizzle as the wrinkles are pressed away, and the crisp feeling of a freshly ironed shirt.  Me likey.

On the other hand, I hate to have another pile of work to fit in between the sorting/washing/sorting/folding/putting away machine that runs my life on a regular basis.  So, for the most part, I buy wash and wear clothing that just...
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