Throughout history, the humble act of doing laundry has, at times, transformed into a radical act of resistance. From women’s suffrage movements to civil disobedience in the face of apartheid, laundry has moved beyond a domestic chore and into the realm of powerful political protest. This post takes a deep dive into the times and places where fabric and defiance were spun together—and where hanging out the wash meant airing out injustice.

The Suffragettes and the White Shirtwaist (Late 19th–Early 20th Century)

In the United States and the United Kingdom, laundry and clothing took on symbolic roles in the women’s suffrage movements of the late 1800s and early 1900s. The white shirtwaist—a blouse often worn by working-class women—became a staple of protest attire. By keeping these garments crisp and clean, women made a statement: they were moral, respectable, and capable of civic responsibility.

Laundry itself also became a form of organizing. In 1908, garment workers in New York—many of them young immigrant women—organized massive laundry strikes. They were demanding fair wages and decent working conditions in commercial laundries, which were often exploitative and dangerous. Clean shirts marched in picket lines, and suds became symbolic of a new social order.

India: Khadi Cloth and the Swadeshi Movement (Early 20th Century)

One of the most powerful laundry-adjacent protests in history was India’s Swadeshi movement (1905–1947), where hand-spun khadi cloth symbolized resistance to British colonial rule. Mahatma Gandhi urged Indians to boycott British textiles and spin their own cloth at home. Washing and maintaining khadi became a sacred duty—laundry as loyalty.

Keeping khadi garments clean wasn’t just about hygiene—it was political symbolism. Every time a woman or man washed, dried, and wore khadi, they resisted foreign exploitation. It was economic protest woven into personal daily life.

South Africa: Laundry Lines and Apartheid (1950s–1990s)

Under apartheid, the act of hanging laundry became deeply politicized. Black South Africans, especially women, often worked as domestic laborers in white households. Their work was invisible—but their protest wasn’t. In 1956, over 20,000 women marched to the Union Buildings in Pretoria, protesting pass laws that restricted their movement.

In townships, some women would hang laundry in patterns—white shirts in long rows, black pants in clusters—as a way to quietly communicate resistance or mourning. Though subtle, these visual protests became part of a broader language of resistance.

Ireland: Magdalene Laundries and Institutional Protest (18th–20th Century)

Though not initially intended as sites of protest, the notorious Magdalene Laundries in Ireland (operating from the 18th century into the late 20th century) became haunting symbols of repression and, later, of justice. Women confined in these religious institutions were forced to labor in laundries as punishment for being “fallen.”

By the 1990s, survivors and activists began protesting against the Church and State, using the imagery of soap, steam, and linens as metaphors for the erasure and abuse they endured. Public apologies, including one from the Irish government in 2013, brought the laundries into historical reckoning.

Read more on this HERE

The Dirty Laundry Campaign: ACT UP and HIV/AIDS Activism (1980s–1990s)

In the late 1980s, the AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power (ACT UP) took to the streets of New York and San Francisco, hanging stained bedsheets and hospital gowns across buildings and fences. This was part of their “dirty laundry” campaign—a literal airing of grief, rage, and demands for justice in the face of a health crisis.

These sheets bore names, dates, slogans. They fluttered like banners in windstorms of stigma. It was laundry turned testimony—fabrics marked with the stories of people the government had ignored.

Argentina: White Scarves and the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo (1977–Present)

While not literal laundry, the white scarves worn by the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo in Argentina became fabric symbols of protest. Since 1977, these women have marched weekly, demanding answers about their children who “disappeared” under the military dictatorship (1976–1983).

The scarves represent baby diapers—home-spun, hand-washed, and now worn as protest gear. These cloths connect motherhood, grief, and activism in a quietly powerful visual statement. They’ve never stopped walking. The scarves have never stopped speaking.

Iran: Laundry and the Morality Police (21st Century)

In the aftermath of Mahsa Amini’s death in 2022, Iranian women began protesting the country’s strict dress codes. One protest took a surreal and symbolic turn—some women washed and hung veils (hijabs) on public laundry lines. These garments, once forced upon them, were being recontextualized as symbols of resistance.

The act of laundering the veil—and then refusing to wear it—was both literal cleansing and figurative reclamation. Across Tehran and beyond, laundry lines turned into resistance art installations.

Ukraine: Clotheslines in Wartime (2022–Present)

As Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, many Ukrainian women remained behind to support families and communities. Laundry became a visceral symbol in a country gripped by war. Images of clotheslines strung between bombed-out buildings, with uniforms and children’s clothes swaying, moved hearts around the world.

In some places, laundry was used as camouflage—white sheets draped across barricades to shield movements. In others, the act of continuing to do laundry under fire was its own declaration of life. Resilience in cotton and bleach.

Haiti: The Lavandières of Revolution (1791–1804)

During the Haitian Revolution, enslaved and free women played critical roles—not only as messengers, healers, and cooks but also as launderers. The lavandières (washerwomen) of Haiti moved through plantations and cities with baskets of clothing, water, and soap, becoming nodes of communication.

They spread news, smuggled notes, and coordinated revolts while appearing to do “women’s work.” Colonial officials underestimated them. Their labor became the channel for liberty.

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Final Spin Cycle of Resistance

Laundry is rarely just laundry. Whether hung on a line, washed by hand, or beaten on stones by riverbanks, it has carried the hopes, griefs, and demands of people across history. In societies where women’s labor is often undervalued, laundry becomes a canvas for power and protest.

Cloth absorbs more than sweat. It holds secrets. It tells stories. And sometimes, when raised to the wind or scrawled with slogans, it changes the world.

So next time you pin a shirt to a line or toss jeans into the machine, remember: you’re part of a long, global thread of resistance. Wash with purpose. Hang with pride.

Support The Laundry Club Blog—because history isn’t written in ink alone.
It’s stitched into the hems of protest skirts, soaked into washbasins, and pinned to the lines of revolution. Help keep these stories scrubbed free from silence and hung out for the world to see.