Chinese Laundry

vitruvian_man-001I am a prudent guy; okay frugal. Actually, some people call me cheap, but they are just folks who do not appreciate ascetic satisfactions.  Regardless where I rest near the bottom of the proliferate scale, I am out of my element in the world of luxury.  But here I am in China, a wealthy Westerner staying at the Nanjing Hilton about to make a presentation to the mayor.  It’s time I upgrade my look.  I decide to send my wrinkled black suit and white shirt to the hotel laundry instead of just pressing it myself.  I am not fond of spurious services; valets parking my car, curbside skycaps or hotel laundries. But I am in China – they specialize in laundry.

I call in my order first thing in the morning, check off my three garments on the triplicate form, stuff my suit and shirt into the laundry bag and am pleased to see it gone when I return from my morning swim.  I go to work all day at the affiliate architect’s office with whom I will make this presentation.  When I return after a long but satisfactory day my suit pants are hanging neat in my closet, crisp as a spring morning.  But where are my shirt and jacket?

Across the room, my shirt and jacket sit balled up in a pair of beautiful boxes.  Apparently, the laundress found defects on these articles, stuck post-its on the offending areas and returned them untouched.  I am so tired I go to bed, but my dreams are full of the mayor shaking my hand with disdain while he fingers my wrinkled suit and eyeballs my stained shirt.

In the morning I get out the iron and press my clothes. I do an adequate job.  In the bottom of the shirt box I find a beautifully laundered and ironed handkerchief, carefully wrapped in a cellophane sleeve. I notice that the triplicate sheet has been modified to indicate four garments rather than three.  The laundress rejected my coat and shirt, but she did a lovely job on a neglected handkerchief.

Next time I decide to upgrade my look, I am going to peer into the mirror, realize there’s only so much I can do with what I’ve got, iron my own clothes and forgo this aggravation. A guy who can’t even manage to get his laundry done in China has no finger on the finer points of life.

130424 Laundry

Chinese Laundry Box with crumpled shirt and beautiful handkerchief in Nanjing, China

About paulefallon

Greetings reader. I am a writer, architect, cyclist and father from Cambridge, MA. My primary blog, is an archive of all my published writing. The title refers to a sequence of three yoga positions that increase focus and build strength by shifting the body’s center of gravity. The objective is balance without stability. My writing addresses opposing tension in our world, and my attempt to find balance through understanding that opposition. During 2015-2106 I am cycling through all 48 mainland United States and asking the question "How will we live tomorrow?" That journey is chronicled in a dedicated blog,, that includes personal writing related to my adventure as well as others' responses to my question. Thank you for visiting.
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2 Responses to Chinese Laundry

  1. Greg Andrews says:

    Congrats, Paul, on your new life as a foreign medical expert in China! Since this post suggests you’re adapting well to the vicissitudes of life there, then my advice is settle in, open an office and take advantage of the crazy building boom to make your fortune (another one?). Start with medical facilities of any sort—that can’t be at the bottom of their priorities (I hope)–and gradually expand…upward! Wow, what a potential new slant for your blog!

  2. Great article. Kay and I really enjoyed this. Are you doing another bike
    ride this summer?

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