The Case for Commercial-Grade Laundry Appliances

As I get older, I find it VERY rewarding to research commercial-grade appliances.

As a consumer, I love buying things that were never really meant for me.  

This all started with a washer and a dryer.

For the record, I think consumer-grade washer and dryers are TOTAL shit. They've turned into computers. And computers break. I don't need my washer and dryer to sing a lil' song when the cycle ends. I don't need a bunch of buttons, 12 modes, or a touchscreen that is trying to make eye contact with me. I need it to wash. I need it to dry.

The best washers and dryers aren’t at Best Buy or Home Depot.

They’re in laundromats. Built to run all day.

So I went DEEEEEEEP researching the absolute BEST laundromat washers and dryers, and then figured out a way to get them into my home. If you are still reading, I present to you Speed Queen. The best commercial-grade washers and dryers on the planet. GTFO Samsung. I don't need someone making smart TVs making my washer and dryer. I need something that is typically coin-operated and has been cleaning clothes since 1908! 

Buuuuuut the new thing. The thing I juuuuuuuust ordered is another item that I've spent quite a bit of time researching. And that's a commercial-grade steamer. Introducing the Jiffy® Garment Steamer - Professional Duty J-2000i. Whoaaaaaaa babaaaaaaay! 

According to my research is one of the best steamers on the planet! Like the ole' speed queen, Jiffy J-2000i is built the same way everything good used to be built. Mechanical as all hell and boring in the best possible way. It is made in the USA, uses all brass fittings, a stainless steel heating element, and a tank big enough to run for the better part of an hour without thinking about it. It was made for hotels, department stores, and fashion shows, and it will probably outlive me. 

If nothing else, I hope one day Sonny will find this in an attic and say (in this order):

"Wow, this thing is heavy as hell."

"Wow, I can't believe this thing still works!"

Then, as he is steaming his clothes, he'll realize... this wasn’t about clothes. It was about how you moved through the world.

He’ll probably smile and admire the chrome that still shines, knowing I only used it maybe 4 or 5 times max. 

And he’ll understand something important about me without anyone ever having to explain it:

That his old man preferred things built to last. Things that didn't perform for attention. Things that just did their job quietly, over and over. Like he did... talking to his computer screen, sending emails, and making his little jokes on the internet.