A couple of weeks ago, visiting my mother’s house, I picked up a book on the kitchen table – Clean and Green by former Great British Bake Off winner Nancy Birtwhistle. It was a revelation. You can make laundry detergent from conkers, says Birtwhistle. You can whiten yellowing pillow covers with citric acid and table salt. Bicarb can be used for almost everything: smelly clothes, stained tea mugs, sticky labels on jars, you name it. You can freshen up the dishwasher by throwing in a couple of lemon halves (in a bag to catch errant pips) and then running it hot, explains Birtwhistle, who adds that she always does this before she goes on holiday (“Darling, come on, have you got the passports?” “Hang on, just popping the lemons in the dishwasher!”). Her list of how often one needs to do certain household chores was mind-blowing. Wooden spoons need to be sanitised once a month, instructs Birtwhistle; ovens should be deep-cleaned twice a year. Windows should be cleaned every month (what?), while loos and dishcloths should be cleaned every day.
How does one learn this stuff? How have I reached my age without knowing more? It feels sluttish, in the old-fashioned sense of the word, to have drifted through life buying Dettol to wipe my kitchen counters down after making supper but not thinking much beyond that.
Presumably this is why Mrs Hinch and other “cleanfluencers” have taken off on social media. Very few of us have been taught that white vinegar can clean the spots of rust on a shower head, or that a toothbrush is a useful implement to clean skirting boards. If only we still were. There’s endless discussion nowadays of the benefits of mindfulness and meditation apps to try and calm everyone’s raging anxieties, but do you know what’s mindful and meditative and easy to do from home without downloading an app? Buffing your window panes for three hours.
The retort from some to the accusation that millennials can’t keep house would be that they can’t afford a house in the first place, given the property market. Fair point. There’s less impetus to look after somewhere that isn’t yours. When are we supposed to find the time, others might wail. I know, I know, it’s very tricky given our jobs and all the hours that we need to spend on social media, watching clips of cats doing something amusing and improbable with a mop.
But I would still recommend giving the window thing a go. Heck, housework is even becoming fashionable. This week, Harrods started selling a £4,000 ironing board, which claims to cut ironing time in half, emits “hygienic steam” and comes with a keychain made of Swarovski crystals.
“Perhaps next you can tackle your oven,” my mother remarked when I reported back about my shiny windows. Baby steps, I replied. I’ve bought myself a copy of the Clean and Green book, although now I flick back through it, I realise I should have used washing-up liquid and vinegar instead of buying glass cleaner from the supermarket. Next month, Nancy, I promise.
A couple of weeks ago, visiting my mother’s house, I picked up a book on the kitchen table – Clean and Green by former Great British Bake Off winner Nancy Birtwhistle. It was a revelation. You can make laundry detergent from conkers, says Birtwhistle. You can whiten yellowing pillow covers with citric acid and table salt. Bicarb can be used for almost everything: smelly clothes, stained tea mugs, sticky labels on jars, you name it. You can freshen up the dishwasher by throwing in a couple of lemon halves (in a bag to catch errant pips) and then running it hot, explains Birtwhistle, who adds that she always does this before she goes on holiday (“Darling, come on, have you got the passports?” “Hang on, just popping the lemons in the dishwasher!”). Her list of how often one needs to do certain household chores was mind-blowing. Wooden spoons need to be sanitised once a month, instructs Birtwhistle; ovens should be deep-cleaned twice a year. Windows should be cleaned every month (what?), while loos and dishcloths should be cleaned every day.
How does one learn this stuff? How have I reached my age without knowing more? It feels sluttish, in the old-fashioned sense of the word, to have drifted through life buying Dettol to wipe my kitchen counters down after making supper but not thinking much beyond that.
Presumably this is why Mrs Hinch and other “cleanfluencers” have taken off on social media. Very few of us have been taught that white vinegar can clean the spots of rust on a shower head, or that a toothbrush is a useful implement to clean skirting boards. If only we still were. There’s endless discussion nowadays of the benefits of mindfulness and meditation apps to try and calm everyone’s raging anxieties, but do you know what’s mindful and meditative and easy to do from home without downloading an app? Buffing your window panes for three hours.
The retort from some to the accusation that millennials can’t keep house would be that they can’t afford a house in the first place, given the property market. Fair point. There’s less impetus to look after somewhere that isn’t yours. When are we supposed to find the time, others might wail. I know, I know, it’s very tricky given our jobs and all the hours that we need to spend on social media, watching clips of cats doing something amusing and improbable with a mop.
But I would still recommend giving the window thing a go. Heck, housework is even becoming fashionable. This week, Harrods started selling a £4,000 ironing board, which claims to cut ironing time in half, emits “hygienic steam” and comes with a keychain made of Swarovski crystals.
“Perhaps next you can tackle your oven,” my mother remarked when I reported back about my shiny windows. Baby steps, I replied. I’ve bought myself a copy of the Clean and Green book, although now I flick back through it, I realise I should have used washing-up liquid and vinegar instead of buying glass cleaner from the supermarket. Next month, Nancy, I promise.
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