From the hamper—the cousin happy to remain in the corner of the bedroom—to the laundromat, the laundry bag again resists the elements. It preserves its space among the aggressors, whether on a crowded train car or along the busy walkways of Michigan Avenue. It knows this well-worn path, worn every Sunday afternoon. The laundry bag, with its seemingly infinite space, will put up with the extra pairs of boxer briefs or grass-stained jeans stuffed in, but it will not tolerate being pushed around. It occupies the proper amount of space required—no more, no less. So, on the shoulder of the individual who carries a pocketful of quarters, it knocks into the clumsy passers-by unapologetically. Its integrity will not be compromised. However, this piece of luggage, like anything else, cannot always maintain this truculent disposition. Once its contents are drained at the laundromat, the laundry bag looses its shape and becomes just pile of cloth. The stressed cotton threads now relax, and the bag returns to a more reflective and tranquil state. While it once had been on the bulky defense, the exhausted laundry bag now lets the elements affect it. The world, both outside and in, is the constant antagonist to the laundry bag. Now, along with the clothes it carried, it again swirls in the persuasion of the laundry machine’s soapy water. Its awareness is not in its same heightened state. The laundry bag cannot always stay on its guard—anything in a pure state for so long is bound to circle back to the counterpart. The hero always falls. The believer always doubts. The hungry always becomes satiated. Packed with clothes, the laundry bag is defensive. Caught in the movement of the laundry machine, it becomes defenseless. It does not stay in this mode of swirling introspection for too long. The cycle runs through, for once the clothes are dried and folded, they are crowded back inside, and the laundry bag emerges to again brave the wild.
The life cycle of the Laundry Bag (now with extended Rinse Cycle!)