As we were running low on Kleenex®, my husband asked; “Do you have any handkerchiefs?”
Do I?
I brought out my collection: one with ornate lace tatting, and a large man’s handkerchief with geometric stripes woven in navy and sky blue on a crisp white background. Here’s one embroidered with my initials. There's a simple linen one trimmed with a single row of yellow lace. There’s a 100-year-old linen one that’s hand-finished, and a white cotton one embroidered with hot pink flowers.
“Geez,” he said. “I just want to blow my nose.”
My grandparents always carried hankies. My grandfather had one that smelled of gas and oil from 60 years of running his gas station. He’d wipe his nose before he’d wipe the gas off his hands. Or was it the other way around? Those were hardworking hankies. Once, when he was checking someone’s oil, I saw him fish into his pocket and wipe the dipstick with his hankie. How on earth did my grandmother ever get his handkerchiefs clean? They must have been flammable. Some were retired and became rags in their next life.
My great Aunt Ida pulled a hanky from her full bosom. She was a “weeper,” and after anything remotely touching was said, her hand dived down her bosom and retrieved the hanky. She would dab her eyes, and then her hand would disappear back down her bosom and return the tear-soaked hanky.
A friend of mine, who’s spent 45 years in the classroom, reaches deep into his classy corduroy pants pocket whenever his allergies cause his nose to drip – which is nearly year-round in New England. He’s a class act with his beautiful ties and cashmere sweaters. His handkerchief is the mark of what my ninth grade English teacher would call “a gentleman and a scholar.” He certainly is both, but with postnasal drip.
Seems like hankies might be better for the environment than Kleenex. I’ve had time to ponder this. I haven’t done the research or the math, but Kleenex start as trees and we need all the trees we can get.
Virgin forests are disappearing faster than voting rights.
I seem to recall that Greenpeace ran a campaign a few years back called “Kleercut.” That campaign got Kimberly-Clark to stop cutting virgin forests to make Kleenex. I hear that once used, Kleenex can’t be fully composted because of the chemicals used to get them white. I don’t know why they are white. I don’t know why toilet paper is white either. No one asks me to weigh in on these weighty decisions.
I know what you’re thinking. Handkerchiefs aren’t as sanitary as Kleenex, right? But my husband and I each have our own – we share a bed but not a hanky. There are limits.
Handkerchiefs have nearly vanished; maybe it’s time to bring them back?
If you need one, I’m sure I have something.