We are excited to introduce Becky Blades, a very prolific creative person and her new book, Do Your Laundry or You’ll Die Alone; Advice Your Mom Would Give if She Thought You Were Listening, that showcases her fun, heartfelt creative spirit. In the book Becky shares some wonderful witty pieces of wisdom and honest advice that we should all embrace, no matter what our age is. We are excited to have Becky as our guest “sockanista” as she so warmly shares her insights about life, common sense, and the sock monster.
Becky, what was your main source of inspiration for the book?
My inspiration was socks. Dirty ones. Lots of them. When my oldest daughter was a senior in high school, it struck me that she would be leaving home in less than a year and she still was not doing her laundry or keeping her life organized. She had more socks and underwear than any human alive, yet she still routinely bought new socks or borrowed clean socks from her sister rather than keep her laundry done. Because she was so busy at school, I helped her out more than I should have.
On one particularly messy morning, I was jolted by fear for her future. Did she know what she needed to be on her own? If she couldn’t even do her laundry, what else did she not know? Did she know how to manage her finances? Did she know not to give money to a crackhead or promise a kidney to a guy in in a bar? Not knowing what she did not know was keeping me up at night, so I began writing things down – those important things that I knew college would not teach her.
How long have you been collecting the ideas and advice in the book?
Over the year I wrote about 150 notes of advice for my oldest daughter and sent it to her in an email after she was settled into college. She replied with a challenge. She told me to make the letter into a book and to finish it in time for her little sister’s high school graduation. So I went to work on it for another year, adding things my second daughter inspired.The final collection is 270 entries, and it took a total of three years to turn it into a book.
How did your daughters react to the final book?
If you’re asking if they wash their socks now, the answer is, sadly, no.
They like the book and give it to their friends, but it may be years before we know if it actually “works.”
I think this advice is good for all of us. Who are you biggest fans of the book, mothers or daughters?
Moms love the book. Moms cry when they read it – and it’s meant to be funny, not sad. It’s because mothers know the truths first-hand, and they know that days of giving advice to their daughters are fleeting and complicated.It makes moms think of their stories and their own advice. That’s why I added a few lined pages in the back of the book so moms can personalize the book as a gift. And girls, or I should call them young women, love this part.
But for me, the most satisfying outcome is the conversations the book starts between women. I’m told of people holding mother-daughter parties just to discuss the book. Women text me photos of road trips, when they take the book along and chat about its topics. As if women need help finding things to talk about.
Tell us more about the Sock Monster, a monster that we all know too well.
Yes, we must take the sock monster seriously. Every household in America has evidence that the sock monster is real. The loss of domestic harmony caused by this invisible varmint is devastating, and the economic impact reaches untold proportions. We have accepted the mysterious loss of single socks for generations, and I think it’s time to fight back. We must teach our young people how to outfox the sock monster. I’m glad Foot Traffic is doing its part by marketing unmatched sock sets. That will scramble the monster’s brain.
Now that the book is complete, are there any other words of wisdom you wish you could now add?
Actually, yes since Foot Traffic has done such a masterful job of creating comfortable leggings and tights, Moms must drive home the point that leggings are not pants. Leggings can be worn under tunics or something else that covers up the rear end, but if you can see the pattern on your underwear under a garment, they are not pants. Only pants are pants.
So what about jeggings, you ask? Um, did I hear the dryer buzzer?