Laundry Lug

Years ago I designed a laundry "bag" that I wanted. This week, I searched and searched for my illustrations but could not find them . . . not that it matters anyway. I was clearly not moving forward with my idea. But just because I never got my act together doesn't mean someone else can't take this idea and run with it.

I'm sure I'm going to miss some critical details; however, in a nutshell, the premise is this. Across college campuses and in major cities throughout the U.S. (and beyond), people lug giant sacks of laundry to the laundry room. For all intents and purposes, these sacks have not changed much over the last 30 years. In other words, they still pretty much suck. So, in my humble opinion, there is a large, existing market in desperate need for a better mousetrap so to speak. And, in all of its glory, this market has thousands of new entrants year-on-year of college freshman or people who move to the "big city." A built-in, ongoing revenue stream.

And, yes, the current model is broken. When the hubby and I lived in NYC, we would often lug our giant bags of laundry over a block away -- sometimes in the cold rain or snow -- to our neighborhood laundromat so we could avoid spending hours running up and down the stairs in our building to use the few, often broken, machines. We could also avoid competing with the aggressive people in our building who would hover like vultures waiting to pounce on the machine the minute it stopped and place someone else's wet clothes on top of the machine to grow cold. It was dog-eat-dog and defied civility.

However, at the laundromat, we would fold our clean clothes yet be forced to then stack them in these same, grotty old bags only to return home with everything in wrinkles.

So, who cares? I did. Why couldn't someone invent a laundry bag based on the simplicity of the rolling suitcase? It could fit in the closet like a hamper and be expandable (i.e., able to be pulled upright along its spine) as it fills. It could zipper both around the top and down the front. Why? So that, when your clothes were clean, dry and folded, you could unzip the front, take the shelves that were neatly stacked on the floor of this so-called laundry lug, pull them up the spine, latch them into place and voila: a built-in shelving unit that keeps nicely folded clothes wrinkle free.

Perhaps it could be made of a lightweight, waterproof, neoprene material. Perhaps it could have a pretty, inner liner that could be removed and washed. Most certainly it would have external pockets to house a) detergent, b) fabric softener sheets, c) quarters, d) cell phone, e) a book, and f) apartment keys. So many times I was stuck carrying all of this crap while lugging my laundry. Not so easy. I'm not known for my strength.

Lastly, it would also have a handle that allows you to wheel it easily from an upright position. And from this handle, you can hang hangers. Yes, wash your shirts and hang them as you wheel them home -- again, wrinkle free.

This laundry lug sounds expensive. And it should be. I think it's worth every penny. Could it be branded with each college logo and sold for more? Probably. Could it be branded with a laundromat name as well? Sure. But I think there's a more lucrative alternative.

Much akin to the kate spade diaper bag being the hit of the early 90's, this could be the next big kate spade branded product. The kate spade laundry lug. People pay handsomely for perceived luxury names -- including $465 for the "classic noel henry baby bag" that's currently on their site. I think it's due time for another major hit from their collection.

One could argue that anyone who can afford such a luxury is not the same person who is lugging his or her laundry to the laundromat but I would beg to differ. There are a million and one people who carried that diaper bag who should have spent their money elsewhere. They simply liked the brand caché. I believe the same holds true for this audience with one major exception: This product is truly needed!

Please, to whomever is in product development at kate spade, make my year. Although I may not be in your target market anymore, my niece and nephew are! I'll gladly be your first customer.