Shine On

The Sunday Age

Sunday September 14, 2008

Rachelle Unreich

Can designer cleaners and vacuums and detergents make housework feel less like drudgery? Rachelle Unreich spends a week finding out.

'I'm writing about how to make housework glamorous," I tell a friend, who scoffs. "You're writing about housework? You? Is it an article about not doing housework?" She thinks for a moment. "There's no way to make housework glamorous, unless you're not doing it, and possibly watching someone else doing it. And it helps if you're wearing Prada slingbacks at the time."

Fact is, there's been a shift in the housework industry, with ordinary household products becoming luxurious, designer and pretty. Fashion label Tocca, known for its romantic frocks, now has a line of washing detergents in its trademark pink-and-gold packaging. You might never roll up your sleeves to do hand-washing, but at least a stylish cleaning product can sit by your sink. Method is the world's largest eco-friendly home brand, with all kinds of products designed to make cleaning hipper; its website boasts of VIP parties and drinks such as the Method Mojito. And yes, cleaning always does seem easier if you drink some alcohol first. (Five mojitos later and you can no longer see the stain on your bathtub.) Method's products include Le Scrub bath scrub and the Lil Bowl Blu toilet bowl cleaner; if that's not enough to entice you to bring out the rubber gloves, the packaging is by fashionable designer Karim Rashid and its cleaning goods are scented with almond or ylang-ylang.

In my straw poll of girlfriends, acquaintances and women at the supermarket hanging around the laundry section for a suspiciously long time, I'm yet to find anyone who embraces housework, including those who've invested in making the task seem more sensuous. Take the mother of three children under five who talks about her ironing basket as if it's a car. (A Lexus RX, to be precise.) "It's gorgeous and sleek and I love looking at it," she confesses. Does it make her like housework more? "No. I loathe housework," she says, even though she irons every item of clothing that her three children wear.

My history with glamorous house-related products is sketchy at best. I remember buying a Diptyque home fragrance in figuier (meaning fig), although I was never entirely sure when to use it. Does it double as a fancy-shmancy toilet spray for guests who feel a bit too relaxed in the confines of your powder room? Does one spritz it around the house before visitors arrive? Is a spray superior to a candle, and should one use it for dousing smelly areas, such as the dog bed? I've never figured it out. Still, I've given many a home spray for a housewarming gift. Somehow, it spells sophistication better than a rubber plant.

I decide to take on the challenge of using designer housework-related products for a week. Soon, a bevy of riches arrives at my doorstep, or at least it seems that way if you're the kind of person who gets excited over a Gedy Cucciolo toilet brush from the MOMA (Museum of Modern Art) store. Apparently I am. It looks subtle, and rather obtuse. It doesn't so much say "toilet brush" as it does: "If you didn't know any better, you might think I'm an oversized Japanese soup spoon in its own dish." Although it's also true that anything bathroom-related should not remind you of anything kitchen-utensil-related.

Now for a disclaimer: I have an occasional house-cleaner. It doesn't seem so indulgent in this day and age. As a friend says, "Housework is one of the first things you outsource." I am not precious about housework, and I have no problem tackling the nastier tasks. That said, what I mainly do is what every mother-of-two mainly does: multiple daily loads of washing; some vacuuming; a lot of kitchen cleaning; and a huge amount of tidying. If I can cut corners, I will. One of my favourite ways of ironing is to bypass the iron altogether, and simply hang things in my bathroom when the shower's running in the hope that steam will take the wrinkles out. It worked better before the days of water restrictions. When I buy clothes, I read the care label carefully. The words "Do not machine wash, do not dry clean" are about as appealing as, well, hand-washing is to me. My dream isn't to own a Kirby vacuum cleaner (although it does look cool and I was impressed by its nearly $4000 price, figuring that it must do something extra too, like pedicures). No, I dream of earning enough money to never have to vacuum again. I can't imagine that J.K. Rowling is still spraying the mould in her shower corners.

However, sometimes gorgeous-looking accoutrements can make you feel better about the task at hand. A successful colleague tells me that for years she couldn't bear looking at the Harpic Duck cleaner hidden under her sink, because not only was it ugly, "it was a symbol of what I was forced to waste my time doing on the weekend." Now that she owns the designer-designed, expensively fragranced counterpart, she says, "I don't have to hide it away. It's like I'm happy to display that domestic side of me".

Some designer products make me feel more positive about cleaning, and not merely in the same way that Collette Dinnigan lingerie makes me feel better about stretch marks. I like the pretty buckets that say "house" and "soak" and "pegs" on them, even though I don't own any pegs and briefly consider taping an "l" over the "p" before storing my socks in that particular container. I appreciate pulling out my fuchsia-hued Cinderella bathroom cleaner only to discover that "wow!" it's coconut scented. While I'm scouring my tub, presumably I am supposed to be fooled into thinking that I'm really on a beach in Queensland, before there were warnings about dousing yourself in coconut oil. Actually, the stuff smells suspiciously like the kind of mixture that goes into cocktails, but I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to take a sip. Most of the other products have fragrances that transport you to some kind of cerebral beauty treatment: Method's range has scents such as cucumber (all purpose surface cleaner), sea minerals (hand wash) and lavender (biodegradable cleaning wipes). I don't exactly feel like I'm at a spa - even when you get a massage, nobody asks you to wipe down the table afterwards - but it's probably nicer to sniff gentle wafts of cucumber than Extreme Pine: Migraine Included At No Extra Price.

Aesthetically, some of the products are heavily gorgeous, as if they've been dipped in a thick coat of Martha Stewart's essence. The dishwashing powder from the Eco Store is so pretty - there's a black and white photograph of a child holding a plate on it - that I barely want to use it. People use recycled wine bottles as vases; perhaps when I'm finished with this, I can pop a rose in it. I look at a Third Drawer Down tea towel like art, and indeed, that's what they're supposed to be. Artists such as David Bromley and Kathy Temin have been commissioned to do the art work on them, and mine is so lovely I decide to frame it. Would using it make me feel more chic? I don't know: I could never bring myself to get it dirty.

Some of the new household items incorporate a sly sense of humour, such as Bee's cleaner, which proclaims in huge lettering on its label: "I'LL MAKE EVERYTHING SHINE." Surely, when household necessities develop a cool factor, there's some irony involved? It's like the conversation I had with my friend Josh, when I asked him about housework and its possibility for glamour. "Boy, I had no idea this topic existed," he said. When pushed, he added, "Glamorous housework seems like an oxymoron, like a 'haute enema.' It is what it is - drudgery - so why try to tie a pretty bow on it? When you clean your house, you are cleaning up your own filth - dirt that has fallen off your shoes, food that has fallen off your plate and innumerable bits of ick. Is surrounding yourself with clouds of lavender and a bunch of brand names going to make this any more chic? You might as well wear a top hat to the bathroom."

I've got to say, he has a point. I love the way my cutting edge Reisenthel clothes hamper from R.G. Madden looks in my bathroom, but it's still a receptacle for worn socks. You can throw a bit of pink grapefruit (Method does) into the dirty work, but it doesn't take the dirty out of it. Can housework be glamorous? I'm pretty sure it can't be. I'm happy to buy the great-looking products for it, but only if they do the job quickly. That way, I can put on my highest heels and get out of the house instead.

STEPFORD WIVES ENVY?

Here are some products that give designer domesticity a good name

1 Method All Purpose Surface Cleaner in Cucumber

It really does smell like a heavenly face scrub, while managing to be non-toxic and scare the bejesus out of grime. Available at Woolworths and Safeway stores, $6.29

2 Mozi apron

The new Botanical Australia collection features hand-screen prints, which make the cotton drill aprons both sophisticated and cheery. Aprons are long, protecting Chanel outfits from many a potential spill. $39.95, mozi.com.au

3 Reisenthel Laundry Basket

It's narrow and tall, holding a lot of clothes without taking up space. And if you're schlepping it to the laundromat, the sides come out and it becomes a collapsible laundry bag. From R.G. Madden, $95, rgmadden.com.au

4 The Laundress New York Wool & Cashmere Shampoo

Cedar-scented and packaged in handsome black-and-white sachets, this is the kind of product you imagine being used at The Four Seasons in Manhattan. Of course, that would make you the maid. No French Maid's outfit necessary. Also available in bottles. 9576 2622, pinkzebra.com.au. Packet of 10 sachets, $29.95

5 Tocca Laundry Delicate (Florence scent)

Here's a thought: if you break your bottle of perfume, you can use this headily scented product instead. It brings hand-wash items up a treat, and the label says you can use it for machines, but at $35, is that feasible? From Studio Imports, 9530 9070

6 B-E-E Gutsy Concentrate - I'll Do Your Dirty Work - Laundry Powder

There's a sense of humour in the packaging, but the best thing about this inoffensively scented laundry powder is that it works, requiring half as much powder. It also uses plant-based ingredients and natural minerals. beautyengineeredforever.com, $12.99, or The Evo Shop, Prahran, 9510 8811.

7 Framar Ironing Board

Made in Italy, this ironing board has a cord holder and a carry tray to make ironing less annoying. You can also buy it with a silicone cover that reflects heat and cuts ironing time. From R.G. Madden, $99

8 Gedy Cucciolo Toilet Brush

Known as the MOMA brush, this became part of the MOMA's permanent collection in 1977. Why? It was designed by the brilliant Makio Hasuike. From R.G. Madden, $59

9 Eco Store Auto Dishwash Powder

Not only is this visually appealing, it also works a treat and is kind to the environment. Using plant-based surfactants, simple mineral salts and essential plant oils, it's environmentally friendly - you use less, and the grey water can be used on lawns and trees. $12.95, ecostore.co.nz or The Evo Shop.