As I grew up, ironing clothes was a luxury. It would cost money as it consumed electricity! So ironing was limited to special occasions. Every year, the school mandated that we get new uniforms. This was one of the few times in a year we would get new clothes. The first day of wearing the clothes was a thrill; I felt spic and span [?], as they say. Over the next couple of days, these would get dirty. Of course, we wouldn’t wash the clothes every day, else the newness wouldn’t last right? After the first wash, for lack of ironing, I would fold the clothes carefully so that there was no creases, then tuck them away underneath the heaviest bed in the home overnight. The next morning, the clothes would appear to have been pressed. And there we were, my brother and I, feeling the new creases with pride.