The Times - UK (2021-11-11)

2 Thursday November 11 2021 | the times

times2

W

e all
have to
do our
bit to
use less
energy
and
counter
climate change, particularly as the
deal signed at Cop26 appears to
amount to every nation saying
they’ll use a piece less coal by
2098, maybe. Which brings me
back to my new washing machine,
said to be “eco”, but is it? (You
thought I couldn’t get two
columns out of a new washing
machine. This is because you are
not a columnist.)
I briefly wrote last week about
my new washing machine,
hoping it would become a series,
and here we are — and if this
goes well, there could be a book
in it. But back to last week, when
I put it to you that having been
out of the washing machine
market for nearly two decades —
my old machine had held up well
— I was astonished to discover
that washing cottons at 40C no
longer took 75 minutes, as it now
took three hours and 40 minutes.
Put it on when you get home at
7.30pm, say, and voilà, done by
11.10pm. “Are you coming to bed,
darling?” “Just waiting for the
washing machine, love. Wish I’d
hand-washed it all now!” (And the
“cotton coloured” cycle is four
hours and 25 minutes. Might as
well stay up all night).
How can it take so long? How?
Given the number of clothes
changes Slave Niece enacts every
day, I’m thinking some clothes are
washed for longer than they are
actually worn. (It’s a terrible habit
of hers. I’m with the head of
Levi’s, who didn’t wash his jeans
for a year. As for bedding, wash
that every couple of weeks, and

for a guest I may

just turn the duvet over to the

“fresh” side. Is that disgusting?)

These machines are sold as

“eco”, yet doesn’t it sound wholly

counterintuitive to you? Does

a car use less petrol the further

it goes? I started to wonder

if this was an example of

“greenwashing”, which you used

to get done in a morning but

probably takes all day now.

Greenwashing is the corporate

practice of saying, “Hey, look how

environmental we are!” while it’s

business as usual, in effect. I

thought of it when I passed H&M

the other day and noted its

heavily marketed “sustainable”

range, but what about its far

larger “unsustainable” range?

Shouldn’t that be identified as

such? With the label saying:

“We burnt a ton of coal and

dried up a lake to make this

garment. Enjoy! Until it ends up

in landfill after one wear!” I don’t

think we can look to H&M to

save the planet, is all I’m saying.

Or Anthropologie. But

the crux of the matter

is this: how can using

power for three times

as long be “eco?”

I contacted Bosch,

which made my old

machine as well as the

new one, but it did not

reply. So I contacted

Which? and spoke to

one of their experts. I

said I understood that

most electricity goes to

heating the water, and as

the longer programme

uses less water, that

might make a difference,

but what about when

you offset that against

the running time? I was

told that keeping the

drum rotating uses very

little electricity, in fact,

but here’s where it gets

interesting. Its survey showed

that most people found a 3hr

40min run time, or a 4hr 25min

one, impractical, as I do.

If you don’t like the machine

running when you’re out or in

bed, you basically have to clear

your diary. So you cheat it with

the “quick wash” or “speed”

button — Which? said its survey

also showed most people do this

— and now you’re basically back

to using a regular, non-eco

washing machine. So what is

going on here?

Are the manufacturers

boasting about their

environmental credentials while,

realistically, offering programmes

that are pretty impossible for

most of us? Having their cake and

eating it? Because now it’s our

fault we’re not using the most

energy-efficient option, and

they’re off the hook? I do have

more to say on this matter, but

am keeping it for the book...

Bring in

the Naked

Parity Law

means she’ll get behind

my campaign for a

Naked Parity Law.

The Naked Parity

Law, which seeks to

redress the historical

prevalence of onscreen

female nudity, says that

for every naked woman

you must have a

naked man.

I lately saw Wes

Anderson’s The French

Dispatch, and had a

Nudity Parity Law been

in operation he’d be

doing time for two

naked women as

counterbalanced by

... let me see... zero
naked men? Yes,

that was it. I am also

campaigning for a

Shower Parity Law.

That is, for every

woman shown in the

shower, usually nude

from behind — the

buttocks shot — there

must be a man.

Honestly, if you got

all your information

on humankind from

TV or films you would

think only women

washed and did so

facing the wall.

And while we’re

here, what about an

Underwear Parity

Law? I started

watching ITV’s latest

stripped-through-the-

week thriller, The

Tower, but in the first

episode a female

police officer is shown

in her bra and pants as

she changed. Why?

How was this essential

to the narrative?

I didn’t watch on —

not exclusively because

of that; I was also

quite bored — so tell

me: in any of the

following episodes was

a male police officer

shown when he

happened to be

changing? Did he sit

on the end of the bed

in his pants? Did he?

This week Rosamund
Pike revealed that her
new fantasy Amazon
series, The Wheel of
Time, will feature
more naked men than
women. She described
this as “pleasing”,
because “women have
been asked to expose
themselves forever and
a day”, and I am also
pleased, as I imagine it

Deborah Ross

I’m clearing my diary!

Now I can run the

‘eco’ cotton wash cycle

She is the youngest Nobel laureate —

and now Malala Yousafzai has bucked

the trend by getting hitched at the age

of 24. Join the club, says Harry Wallop

I

t was my 20th

wedding anniversary

a fortnight ago, and

though I am — as

my wife always claims

— dead inside, I was

sentimental enough to

dig out the wedding

album. It was an

unnerving experience.

Looking back at me were

the faces of children.

We were both 26 and

looked barely old enough

to possess a driving

licence, let alone a

marriage certificate. The

pictures of the dancefloor,

full of our pimply friends

with Damon Albarn hair

and Jarvis Cocker ties,

resemble a teenage disco.

My wife informs me that

one of the songs was

Toploader’s Dancing in

the Moonlight. I had

blanked this horror

from my memory.

Marrying young was,

however, one of the best decisions

I’ve made — even if I was bullied

into it. Which is why the news that

Malala Yousafzai, the youngest Nobel

laureate in history, is tying the knot at

24 is so cheering.

Yes, she is statistically very young

to get married. The average age of a

first-time heterosexual marriage in

England and Wales is almost 32, up

from a low of just under 23 in 1970. Even

in 2001 getting married as young as

we were was unusual; we were the first

of our friends to walk down the aisle.

Malala’s age has raised eyebrows.

She only left Oxford last summer.

People are asking: why the rush?

The answer is surely: why the delay?

One of the reasons my wife, Vic, and

I have remained happily married —

or at least married — is because we

watch When Harry Met Sally...

annually. We have even brainwashed

our children into accepting it as

one of the greatest films of the

past 50 years. And as Harry Burns

quite rightly states, when you realise

you want to spend the rest of your

life with somebody, you want

the rest of your life to start as soon

as possible.

Admittedly it took a while for me to

realise that I wanted to grow old with

Vic. And it only happened after she

told me, repeatedly, that this is what I

wanted. But I have slowly come to

accept that she’s nearly always right.

We met at university, aged 21, but

only in the last term. After months of

monk-like celibacy living in the library

revising for finals I was keen to line up

a post-exam fling. She was that

woman. Yes, it was that romantic.

She almost refused because I was

wearing deck shoes, an item of

footwear she associates with “stupid

posh boys”. On about date three —

after we’d established our mutual love

of Nora Ephron films and I’d ditched

the shoes — she declared she was only

interested in going out with someone

she was going to marry. And that she

wanted four children.

I presumed she was pulling my leg;

she assured me she was not. For some

reason I did not run screaming from

the café. I thought she’d soon realise

that having such firm convictions at

the age of 21 was freakishly out of

kilter with the ladette, girl power era

we were living in. She did not.

After dating for four years, and her

increasingly persistent talk of

marriage, I told her I could not bring

her Christmas present on the train

because it was too big. She thought it

was a double bluff and the present was

an engagement ring. When she

discovered it was, in fact, a bulky

picture, she burst into tears and locked

herself in the bathroom, from where

she screamed that if we were not

married in a year’s time, she’d leave me.

So we got married. True, it’s not a

fairytale to tell your grandchildren.

But getting it out of the way young is

ultimately a huge relief; you skip a

decade of doubts and fears, and it

means you can get on with the rest of

your life. With the person you love.

We looked barely

old enough

to possess a

driving licence

sions

Like Malala,

Malala Yousafzai and Asser Malik

at their ceremony on Tuesday

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