Graduation Woes

As of Saturday, May 18th 2013, I have become an RIT alum. I honestly never thought the day would come, especially the five days leading up to graduation. Whoever invented 100% recycled plastic bottle gowns was out of their mind. The instructions said “DO NOT IRON. DO NOT DRY.” What the heck am I supposed to do? Beat it with a feather duster and hope it scares the wrinkles out? Put it on a clothesline — yeah, because college kids have those. Being a packaging science major you would think I would know how to “iron” plastic bottles. Sadly, RIT doesn’t teach us that so I was on my own.

I was certainly in a bit of a pickle; I had five days to remove the wrinkles from the “very wrinkle resistant” attire (I would hate to see the non “very wrinkle resistant” gowns). I thought, being a smart college student, that I would ask Google for some help. What did I find? Not much. Google had failed me? I was baffled but I kept searching. After some search word changes, I eventually stumbled upon a blog by someone who put her husband’s gown in the dryer with a wet towel.

Let me tell you a secret, it did not work. Tried that tip and it didn’t really remove a darn wrinkle. I soaked that towel and I put it on medium for 30-minutes. Nada. I maybe removed 15% of the wrinkles. Big whoop. I still wasn’t up to my desired 90% removed state.

At this point you’re probably wondering why I’m so obsessed with being wrinkle-free for graduation, right? Well, it’s simple. I was the 2013 College of Applied Science and Technology (CAST) delegate for Packaging Science. I was the first packaging student to enter the room and I was also the sign carrier. I didn’t want to look bad and let down my department.

Desperate to find an answer, I took an iron to it (I used one of my shirts between the iron and gown so I didn’t melt it). Guess what? That didn’t work either. Talk about “the usual” means of removing wrinkles failing me.

Now before I reveal the secret, let me state that I tried the whole “steaming” aspect suggested on the package. Let me also state that steaming did absolutely nothing. If anything, it fogged up my mirror and had me choking on water vapors. And if you ever have to experience wheezing from water vapor, please run out of the room to breathe dry air. Your lungs will thank you.

Hopeless and ready to call it quits, I did the one thing left. I took a shower with it. I got that baby soaked. Now hanging it up as it drenching wet probably wouldn’t do much, or so I figured, so I decided to add some weight to the bottom of my gown. You know, to really force those pesky wrinkles out. I tacked the sleeves to the wall and I… put clothespins on the end of the gown and on the pleated areas. I let it dry and a day later I re-wet the areas that were still showing some wrinkles.

When I awoke that next morning, I was in shock. Total awe. They were pretty much gone! Getting the iron out, I tackled the creased areas (as in I re-creased the areas that were supposed to be creased). Within 30-minutes, my gown was ready to show off. It was about 95% wrinkle free.

Convocation and graduation came and I would have been crowned the winner of the “wrinkle-free gown award.” Too bad no such award exists. It should. Defeating those wrinkles was no easy feat. It was a battle but I came out on top.

I share this story with you and hope that you, unlike me, won’t waste hours trying to clean up that wrinkly mess known as a plastic gown. I wish the class of 2013 all the best luck and I hope those after us can learn from our graduation woes. And I leave the class of 2014 with the knowledge that plastic bottle gowns were not made with the intension toe wrinkle-free unless, of course, you are determined and stubborn.

Oh, and professor Mike Johansson, if you’re reading this, this is the blog post I had to write. Recall that my mother said she wouldn’t give me my diploma until I did. Well, it’s written and I’m waiting for it to come. 🙂