Falling in love with a vacuum took me by surprise. Kitchen appliances and other motorized items have never excited me much. Cars, included. But a few months ago, on a dusty Saturday morning, determined to get rid of the allergens that build up in corners, under sofas, and in places best left unexplored, I hauled out our heavy upright. Just trying to lug that loud, unattractive, inefficient, and poorly designed monster reminded me immediately why I took it out only when it was apparent that I was losing my personal battle with dust. And that is when I had my vacuum epiphany. There had to be a better vacuum.
A few short hours later after some serious research, I became the proud owner of a Dyson DC 24. I shudder remembering my vacuuming life before its arrival. Quiet and powerful, the bagless clear canister fills so quickly that the existence of dust has finally been unequivocally proven to the unbelievers in my family. Superbly designed, each and every piece of the Dyson clicks into place and stays there until it is called into service. Small, lightweight, and compact, I sometimes refer to it affectionately as my Prius. Attractive in a playful industrial gray, orange, and red palette, I can almost hear a round of applause from the Bauhaus masters. A job well done.
I designed these washcloths to go with my essay An Artful Way to Knit .