I Made $16 Washing a Stranger's Underwear! (And You Can, Too)
Plus! Vacation Alert!! Weird Trash Heap #29!!!
Hello everyone,
Welcome to Issue #130 of CAFÉ ANNE!
Just a quick note this week: I will taking some time off for my annual summer cabin vacation in Selkirk Shores State Park, a beautiful location on Lake Ontario overlooking the Nine Mile Point nuclear power plant.
That means no newsletter for two weeks. The café reopens Monday, September 2 aka Labor Day. I will miss you!
I am very excited for this week’s issue, of course. We’ve got a great new weird trash photo and an account of my effort to earn extra $$$ washing a stranger’s underwear. Please enjoy.
Regards!
Anne
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Weird Trash Heap #29
Reader Lucie T. recently spotted and photographed this impressive trash heap near her home in Manhattan’s Stuyvesant Town:
Imagine her delight when she ventured over for a closer look and spotted this book in the center of the pile:
“My first thought was, ‘I must send this to Anne!’” she wrote.
Thanks Lucie! Ironic trash is the best trash!
Please send your weird trash photo to annekadet@yahoo.com and I will include it in a future issue.
GIGVENTURE
I Earned $16 Washing a Stranger’s Underwear! (And You Can, Too)
It's not easy trying to earn a living writing a free newsletter. But recently, I struck on a great idea. What if I took gig jobs—like food delivery and dog walking—and wrote about the experience? I could earn side-hustle income while simultaneously generating "content" for CAFÉ ANNE. So efficient!
My first effort: laundry lady.
I was charmed when I learned of Clotheslyne, a little startup based in Goshen, NY. It's Uber for laundry! Customers pay $20-$25 a bag to have a "Clotheslyner" pick up their load, wash it and return it within 24-48 hours.
"There are 50 million washing machines in the US, and almost none of them are being monetized!" Co-founder Dan Feliciano told me when I called to learn more about his company, which launched in 2022. "If you want to give the rest of the country the opportunity to outsource, we increased the supply by adding 50 million potential contractors to the pool."
He and his co-founder Camden Olivero now have 650 “Clotheslyners” doing the wash in eight states and 25 markets. Most drive around picking up laundry from their neighbors which they wash at home, earning $16 a load. NYC is the startup's newest territory—it launched here in January.
"But New York City is a weird laundry market," I noted.
"It is," said Dan. "It's weird and here's why."
In the U.S., 90% of single-family homes have a washer and dryer. That means there's plenty of potential Clotheslyners in almost every community who are available to take in the wash.
But here in NYC, hardly anyone has room in their apartment for a washer and dryer. Everyone does their laundry at the laundromat, or drops it at the neighborhood wash-and-fold, or uses a professional delivery service.
And if you're among the few in NYC well-off enough to have a washer and dryer in your apartment, odds are you're not looking to make extra cash doing laundry for strangers.
I was somewhere in the middle. While I don't have a machine in my apartment, I can do the wash in the laundry room of my apartment building for just $3.60 a load.
"I think you should do it!" said Dan.
Becoming a Clotheslyner turned out to be a bit of process, which started with downloading the company’s app and watching a video.
"Welcome, new Clothelyner!" it said. "Want to start making money while binging your favorite TV shows?"
It briefed me on the steps. First, I'd create an account on the platform—like an online dating profile, but for laundry—and then accept requests from customers.
The video also offered instructions. Always use cold water, it advised, and fold the clothes as soon as they are dry. "Do your best to match socks."
I could definitely handle this.
The next step: "Let's schedule your test run to get you closer to making $15-20 an hour working from home!"
The test run turned out to be a phone call with co-founder Camden. He and Dan, who first met when Dan hired Camden to work for his house painting company (which he since closed to focus on laundry), are the startup's only employees, and Camden is in charge of onboarding.
Camden took me through a mock order before offering advice on creating a great Clotheslyner profile, including the ideal photo. "You holding a laundry bag would be perfect!" he said.
We also discussed potential earnings. "If you'll be going to a laundromat, it might not be economical unless you have a big load and use a large machine," he warned.
The final step: I had to submit my DOB and SSN, agree to a criminal background check, and certify that I am not a robot.
I totally fooled them on the robot thing. A day later, I got an email: "Anne Kadet, welcome aboard!"
Reader, I had to be very patient. While I waited and waited, I did not get any orders. Was it my profile? I'd only posted my first name and a headshot.
I spiffed up the bio. "I joined Clotheslyne," I wrote, "because I love laundry day!"
Then I asked my neighbor Shelly to take a few shots of me in the basement laundry room.
"So they know you can recognize a washing machine?" she asked.
"Yes," I said. "And not confuse it with a dishwasher."
I posted the photo below on my Clotheslyne profile. I think it looks very dynamic—like I'd really wash the bejeezus out of your socks!
And here's a few outtakes, which I'm including because I think they are funny.
But the update did not help. Even after expanding my availability beyond Brooklyn Heights to include additional zip codes—which could mean longer travel times—I waited all through April, May, June and July without a single bite.
Other Clotheslyners around the nation, meanwhile, were getting plenty of business, as evidenced by the posts crowding the Clotheslyne Facebook group.
Here, 282 members were trading tips on how to fold underwear, untangle aprons and speed up the drying process. They were also swapping stories: "So I had a fun stain experience last night..."
My favorite: Clotheslyner Amber T., who was wondering what to do about a regular customer whose laundry reeked of cat pee.
"I wouldn't take those orders. No way," responded Clotheslyner Laura H.
I also enjoyed the company's Clotheslyner of the Week posts featuring troopers who went "above and beyond," like Jessica in Orange County, NJ. "Multiple customers have mentioned Jessica for having perfect folding," I learned. The company recognized her with a $25 Amazon gift card.
I finally got my shot last week. When an order isn’t filled through the platform, the company feeds it to a new Clotheslyner who needs a leg up. Was I interested in a single-bag order in Central Brooklyn? I would pick up the load on Tuesday between 4 and 6 pm, and deliver it clean 24 hours later.
It was too far to walk—I'd have to take public transportation. But you’ve got to spend money to make money, right?
"Yes, I would like to take this one!" I replied. "Thank you!"
Tuesday afternoon, I started my laundry journey. I walked the half-mile to Downtown Brooklyn where I took the B54 bus 18 stops to Bed-Stuy.
The bus dropped me off near the client's apartment building, located across from the projects, between a bodega and a hair braiding salon. The entryway was locked, so I buzzed the apartment. No one answered. I buzzed again. Nothing. Finally, I slipped inside when a random resident left the building. When you're a middle-aged white lady, no one questions you about anything.
I took the elevator to the sixth floor and found the right unit. Someone was definitely home—I heard hip-hop blasting inside. So I gave the door a good rap.
"Who is it?"
"It's ANNE!" I called. "I'm here to pick up your laundry!"
A young lady answered the door in glasses and cutoff shorts. It was my client's roommate. To my surprise, she invited me in and offered me a seat and a glass of water while she located the laundry bag. We chatted about inflation, the neighborhood, and of course, doing laundry in NYC. “Laundromats are crazy!” we agreed.
Then I was lugging the 20-pound load back to the bus, followed by the half-mile walk home. It was 90 degrees and humid. I was really earning my $16!
The next morning was laundry day. I took my client's load down to the basement and shoved her damp clothing into the washer as fast as possible. I didn't want to examine her dirty duds too closely—it struck me as oddly intimate, even invasive, like staring at someone in the locker room.
But I took my time with the folding. According to the employee handbook, "The better you fold the clothes, the more likely they will give a bigger tip and positive review.”
This gave me a chance to admire my client’s wardrobe, which included mucho workout gear (she apparently lives in sports bras and leggings), colorful thong undies and a mauve tube dress that looked like the world's largest sock.
And of course, I put some love and good vibes into each garment as I folded, so that my client would feel good putting them on.
It paid off! After I delivered the load that afternoon, the review came in: "So sweet and super timely," the client posted on my profile. "Laundry is very fresh!"
She gave me five stars and a $3.27 tip. It was weird how great I felt. Plus I'd had a little adventure. I liked being a Clotheslyner!
Then I crunched the numbers.
"It cost me $3.60 for the wash-and-dry in my basement laundry room, plus fifty cents for the detergent, and $11.60 for two round-trip bus rides," I told the co-founders the next day in a Zoom call. "So I spent $15.70. Then I got a $16 payout, plus the tip. So my net profit was $4.07."
Dan nodded sympathetically. At some point, Clotheslyne will probably start paying higher rates in New York City than it does in other markets to reflect the area's high cost of living and unique challenges, he said. "But that's lower on our list of software things that we need to implement. And Camden did let you know, and he's letting people know, 'Hey, listen, if you don't have your own car, and you don't have your own washer and dryer, this is not going to be a great situation for you.' I mean, you can see Cam. He's like, the most trustworthy person. Just looking at him, you're like, 'Okay, this kid's giving me the straight dope.'"
I looked at Camden, who was smiling in his Zoom window.
"Can I take a screenshot so everyone can see how trustworthy Camden looks?" I asked.
"Of course!" said Camden.
"As far as the time," I continued, "It took ten minutes to put the wash in, eleven minutes to load the dryer, and then 22 minutes to do the folding and packing. So that was a total of 43 minutes including the elevator rides to the basement. Am I pokey, or about average?"
Dan assured me that this was near the average per-load "active time" of 45 minutes. "And so if an average order is $17, then we're saying, you know, you're making about $23 an hour," he said.
Of course, in my case, I had also had to factor in time spent walking to the bus (I did not count the bus ride itself), which inflated my active time to 83 minutes. This produced an hourly wage of $3.10.
"Do you think it's possible to make this work in New York City?" I asked.
Turns out, the service is taking off nicely in Staten Island and parts of Queens, where the company’s 67 NYC Clotheslyners live in actual houses and drive actual cars and own actual washers and dryers. It just isn't a Brooklyn thing yet.
But it could be! If I wanted to get serious, I could advertise on my co-op’s bulletin board and serve as a Clotheslyner just for neighbors in my apartment building. Without the bus fare and travel time, I calculated, I could earn about $20 an hour.
"I dunno," I told Dan. "It was one thing to wash a stranger's clothes. But I’m not sure about Roger down the hall. He's cool, but I don't know if either of us want me seeing his underwear."
Roger, I know you're reading this, so let me know!
Know of a fun NYC gig opportunity I should try? Email me: annekadet@yahoo.com
QUOTE OF THE WEEK
“Gratitude is a canine disease.”
—Joseph Stalin
CAFÉ ANNE is a free weekly newsletter created by Brooklyn journalist Anne Kadet. Subscribe to get the latest issue every Monday!
As your financial advisor, ew.
Anne I didn’t even read this yet but I can tell you confidently you can make a lot more selling your dirty underwear to strangers rather than washing theirs for them.