Form and Function's Love Child

I am 31 years old, living in a new city, and have recently come to grips with the fact that the only piece of furniture I own is an ironing board. For a little while, I kept it folded up until I needed it--which wasn't that often since I'd rather molt than iron.

The board has since become a permanent part of my new room, though. I am in a sublet now, so I am trying to avoid getting a lot of furniture that I will just have to move in a few months. Leaving the ironing board out allows me to avoid getting actual furniture. In essence, it's minimalist living based on a future plan to be lazy. It's a sort of slothful practicality that I think suits me.

My ironing board has a cover with pastel polka dots that came with it, and I am already looking into secondary and tertiary covers--a cover for every mood. Bright colors for when I am happy, elaborate edgy designs for when I am ambitious, soothing red velvet for when I’m anxious (like right before I start ironing). Sure, the ironing board is there for its utility, but that doesn't mean it can't have a little fun too, right? It works hard; but it can let its hair down and rock out if you let it.

I really just needed a place to put some stuff; that’s how it started. Keys, change, phone... iron. I even added picture frames, with smiling scenes full of friends and family. Like everyone else, I need a surface to place little odds and ends, and putting things on the floor was starting to become inconvenient. An added advantage is that the board comes to just the right level; I don't need to lean in order to place things on it. It’s the perfect height. It’s almost if the ironing board was screaming to be more than just an ironing board. It’s capable of more than that.

For instance, I had never noticed how much ironing boards look like little metal surfboards. Surfboards with retractable (maybe even motorized?) legs. They don’t float, but I am sure there are attachments that could remedy that. Also, an ironing board would make a great full-length riot shield. The point is: an ironing board has limitless possibilities. And if people can't see that, then maybe it's their imaginations that are wrinkled!

In truth, I think I may be spending too much time with--and relying too much on--my ironing board. But I refuse to pick my keys up off the floor anymore. So, I guess we’re at an impasse, and we may be here for a little while, in the room where form and function awkwardly meet.