Last of Its Kind

A combination of work uncertainty, follow-up practicum from my summer class, and a worsening insomnia has left me too tired to go out the last few weeks. Since I'm doing laundry at 6:00 AM, I wanted to write a short lament for the disappearance of laundromats from Toronto.

Given my usual laundry time, I haven't had any meet-cute encounters in laundromats popular with rom-coms and TV shows. Although about a decade ago, I did often run into a cute pixie at the one (also recently shuttered) at the corner of Gladstone and College. But even at this early hour, I have met some interesting characters including a minor-league hockey player from the 70s who is the definition of white privilege and a cheerful Jamaican matriarch who cleans rooms at the Royal York hotel.

But the loss of laundromats from gentrification to me is also an indication of the lack of diversity in the neighbourhood. Their past presence reflected a wider mix of people especially renters. From young people sharing raucous space with room-mates, couples shacking up for the first time, and older single folks living quietly, they all washed their essentials there. Single family homes and condos don't need laundromats. And the cross-section of folks who live in these units aren't as varied as before. So every time I see another laundromat closing, I feel that another piece of a vibrant city is lost.