It was great to have a chat with Aditi - someone who responded to one of my callout posters - a few weeks ago. She’s been using laundrettes in Brighton since 2015:
“We moved into a shoebox apartment. It was lovely, a really nice place.. But it was less than 30 square metres and it was me and my partner.. and I didn’t realise how bad the mould problem was. And drying clothes, there was just no space. We were frustrated already with the lack of space. So I thought, how about this laundry place... And the joys of being able to tumble dry!”In those days Aditi used a laundrette on Upper North Street, usually arriving just before it would close. The lights would go off automatically at 8 o clock, so she’d often use a machine near the entrance and keep the door open with one foot so she could use the street light to sort out her washing.
One day at this laundrette, she smelt a distinctive burning smell and commented on it to another customer. But no one else could smell it, and it was a self service laundrette with no number to call. A few hours later, the place was on fire. It turned out to be a structural issue to do with the next door restaurant but for Aditi it was reminiscent of a fire in her childhood home that she was never sure if she’d caused… she may have left a candle burning, on top of the washing machine.
Last December, Aditi and her partner moved to a new flat in Kemptown. There’s a laundrette in the basement of their building for residents to use but Aditi avoided it for the first few months, because...
“I could feel a presence in there.”
Although going to the laundrette had been a part of her routine for years, in their new building it soon became her partner’s job.
“I just couldn’t deal with the apprehension I would get.
There’s a corridor to get in there. You get down [to basement level] and there’s a few closed doors that you have to pass to get in there..so already, there’s a lot of mystery.
There’s lots of wind columns where we are.. So when it’s windy, you get this sort of *whistles* and the trees rustling.. And then you enter..
It’s this scene that’s set up.
Even as you walk, everything echoes cos you’re in the basement.. And the dryers are always going, ‘cos there’s about 40 flats.
There’s always a chair there. I never understood why there’s a chair there, and no one sits there.. There’s never anyone there. But it almost feels like it’s just a symbolic thing.. Where you allow a soul to be comfortable.
All around Brighton, you see people’s names on benches.. And I just keep thinking, I wonder whose name should be on that chair.”
After a few months, Aditi’s husband suggested it was time for her to confront her fear. She knew he was right, and also that she wanted to get to grips with her fear of the unknown in other aspects of her life:
“I started doing it with the sea too. This year, I’ve gone in even when it was super cold. I just had to go in there to confront my fear. Even if it’s rough, I’ll think to myself “thank you for your abundance, thank you for protecting me, thank you for allowing me to be there” and then somehow all that fear dissipates.. And you’re completely in your body. And then your body will tell you when you are crossing your own limit.
And this [basement laundrette] was the same thing.
But now, I've really made friends with this presence.
That feeling of someone being there has not gone. There is someone there, I know it. But I think they just observe.
Now, as soon as I enter that laundry space.. I talk. I’m like, ‘hello? I’m here... hope you’re well’ and I tell them about my day.
I think it's really helped me in how I react or respond to situations that can take you by surprise. It's also maybe that shedding of ghost stories that you hear as a kid.”
Aditi spoke about other laundrettes in Brighton she’s used, the characters she’s met and the different activities she’s occupied herself with whilst waiting for her washing. It seemed like this was a part of her life that yes, was necessary, but that also - she somewhat enjoys. I asked her what feelings she associated with laundrettes and the act of washing her clothes.
“I think it’s the easiest way to reinvent yourself.
For me, it’s just like, ah! I’m a new person. I’m not yesterday’s person. It’s kind of like the shedding of the snakes skin… I think I dream better on clean sheets.”
I loved the imagery that Aditi conjured up here. It was so great to sit and chat for over an hour about laundrettes, going down all sorts of tangents.. which is still sort of wonderfully surprising to me - that there’s so much to say! And yet, of course, why not, there’s so many stories in every person, place, activity, interaction.
I could really relate to how Aditi spoke about the strength and peace she gained from confronting her fears. It reminded me of the anxiety I’d felt about lockdown easing and approaching people in laundrettes earlier on in the project. It conjured up memories of yoga courses and mental health workshops, of practicing gratitude and acceptance. We spoke about how challenging our fears doesn’t have to be some big loud announcement either, it can happen quietly - in an empty laundrette. And without even realising it, in confronting our fears, we are also practicing hope.
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