Ever since I moved into my apartment nearly three years ago, I haven't used a washing machine. Why would I? The concierge downstairs had a reliable and good laundry service and about three years ago was when I started getting really busy with book stuff and television.
It was all going great, and I justified the cost to myself by figuring out how many hours it'd take me to do laundry and how much my time was worth per hour. Good deal at the time.
But then the concierge company downstairs switched -- and I started to notice that my expensive sweats, brands like Kritik, Juicy, and Primp, started disappearing from my deliveries. I switched to Slate NYC, that eco laundry service, and ended up paying them $136 for a whole lot of headache -- they had some serious customer service problems and issues with scheduling, and initially refused to refund half the month's fee since, you know, they never showed up after the first time (which, itself, took about five days to schedule), so I ended up having to call the publicist and identify myself as press and beg to please get my $68 back (yes, one load of laundry at Slate cost me $68 and a whole lot of trouble), and finally that's how that worked out. So I went back to using the concierge downstairs -- I dropped off one large bag of black shirts with them and my special-order big-girls shirts from England came back with chewing gum embedded in it. Great.
So right now, as I type, I have three loads of laundry going downstairs in the laundry room -- it's the first time I've done my own laundry in years and it's an oddly satisfying feeling. I mean, instead of waiting two days for my laundry to come back, I only have to wait about 20 minutes for the wash cycle.
Best part? I won't steal my own clothes and throw chewing gum in the dryer.