a blog launched to laugh at my own expense

On Trump and Dry Cleaning

In my highly sought after opinion, I believe that I have spent as much money as Donald Trump on dry cleaning this year. Do I have any factual evidence of this? No. Absolutely not. But, alternatively, there is no way Donald Trump has spent more than me so far in fiscal year 2017.

My excess expenditures in the world of chemical cleaning, though currently inflated in 2017, are not a new trend. I was raised by parents (well, in a two-parent household where, one of my parents who will remain nameless, often dry cleaned their socks). When I moved home after college, my Queen of the Dry Clean status got so bad that our family dry cleaner cut me off from the family tab and reprimanded me saying, “College graduates living at home must pay for their own dry cleaning!!!” The reason I moved out was 75% because I couldn’t continue to pay for my own dry cleaning. (Don’t worry, Mr. Kim let me back on the tab when I showed him my DC driver’s licence but don’t tell J and A).

But even though I have been on the family chit with Mr. Kim, this year has been a huHHHHHUUuuuggggggeEEEEE  (insert Dtrump hand motion here) year for me dry cleaning wise. The year started with a trip to Patagonia, where, upon returning home, I tried to dry clean my sleeping bag, my sweaty knee braces, my hiking boots, etc.. Mom informed me, “You know dry cleaning doesn’t really clean things as well as a washing machine,” but I choose not to listen to this alternative fact. The same way I also chose not to listen to her previous theory that “McDonalds isnt healthy for you”.

(not sure if these boots were before or after the dry cleaning)

A couple days after the Patagonia dry cleaning bill came the $9K dry cleaning bill which was collateral damage of The Great Flood of January 2017*. (*Sidenote: Don’t worry… The Great Flood of January 2017 will be covered in a fourty-part series of blog posts that will hopefully make me a famous blogger.).

But essentially, a plumber cut the wrong pipe in my building which resulted in ceiling through the floor flood in our condo. For fear of black mold and ruined vintage Lilly Pulitzer shift dresses, my sister and I immediately had all of our fabric possessions dry cleaned. Initially I thought, “OMG!! Life goal coming true! Everything dry cleaned and returned to me on a hanger?! This is awesome!! I can’t wait!!”

Except it was the alternative fact of awesome.

It literally was like a dry cleaning company personified Trump’s presidency. This “textile restoration” company ambulance chased their way into our disaster zone of a water damaged apartment, told us how bad the situation was, told us we were lucky to have them, and then promised to fix it. We hired them because they were the only company in our insurance network (sound like the GOP ticket or whhaatt). BUT THEN, as soon as they had the job, they terrorized our possessions and enjoyed it. Most of our cotton clothing came back as stretched out as a linebacker and they responded with a template alternative fact saying, “All damages were pre-existing”.

Like what? Have you seen the size of my sister? She is a life sized barbie who, in her own words, “would never wear a size medium,” and you are telling me that her crop top shirts, which are now the length of dresses, have not been damaged?

Since my sister and I have been out of house and closet for as long as Trump has been in office, the only reasonable solution to spending less on dry cleaning is buying more new clothing. Too bad Nordstrom doesn’t carry Ivanka Trump anymore.


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