My favourite textile care label is "Do not iron". It is the one care label I take very seriously. But I always feel this label should have a qualifier, for example:
Do not iron; do something fun.
Do not iron; do something worthwhile.
Do not iron as it is a complete waste of your precious time.
Do not iron as it may be injurious to your mental health.
I am no Domestic Goddess but I find ironing the most trying of all household chores. While not usually one for violence, if anyone ever gave me an iron as a gift I'd probably find myself in a position where I'd need to deploy the legal defence of provocation. The only way I can bear to iron is while drinking wine and listening to loud, sweary music.
A recent houseguest had a very sad accident with my should-have-been-binned-a-decade-ago iron. Before I remembered to warn him about this domestic White Dwarf he'd already melted an iron-shaped hole in his brand new shirt. He had to attend his business meetings sporting the I'm-currently-living-in-my-car look.
After a week sporting the same look I've given in and bought a new iron. Any excuse for my weekly dose of wine and sweary music.