Born to Label

My father was a labeler, so I guess that is where I got it from. He wrote my name in italics on everything in red Magic Marker. We put paper labels with our names on them and gummy backs you licked like a stamp in our books. My camp uniform and bedding were outfitted with iron on labels that we ordered from somewhere. Likewise my school uniform, socks, scarves and blazers.

We had the Dymo Embossing Label Maker, too. You remember, the one with the alphabet in the round, you squeezed to emboss one letter at a time and then peeled off the back to stick wherever you needed to. I punched out my name a lot in a myriad of colors. When I was learning French and then Spanish I made labels with the foreign words that I put on everything to remind me what they were called in another language. It drove my family nuts.

Labeling was something I took for granted. I put my name on every notebook and school paper. I never really paid attention to notice if anybody else was labeling anything also. I thought everybody did it. When I got to college a few people made fun of the fact that I had my name in my coat ,but the label came in handy when I inevitably left my coat behind at a restaurant or party

When I had my own household to run I graduated to a brother label maker with a typewriter style keyboard. This is probably my favorite thing in the Kitchen. It produces beautiful, easy to read, vinyl labels with easy to peel backs. My main goal is to help other members of the household put things back where they found them and find things on their own. This does not work. They can read, but it doesn’t help. No matter, I label keys and charging cords, light switches and shelves and drawers and clear boxes filled with whatever for storage. I label everything in closets, cabinets and the fridge. I even label remote controls and cordless receivers.

When my own children were old enough to go to school I labeled clothes, backpacks, lunch boxes, calculators and sporting equipment. My children were dismayed by my labeling. The other kids didn’t have their items marked with their names, why did they?. They were humiliated. I ignored this, as camp preparations began. Iron on labeling requires a steam iron though, so while it worked for towels and sheets, I had to come up with an alternative for fleece, down jackets and leggings besides a sharpie permanent marker. My husband was a fan of duct tape with our last name written in large black letters, but even I could see that our children would cringe at the sight of that.

Somehow I discovered Mabels labels based in Canada but happy to ship to the US. They have labels that would stick on cups, water bottles, sneakers, Sandles, clothing, tags, soap boxes, toothbrushes, camp trunks and anything else you can think of. These labels are Dishwasher and Washing machine safe and come in lots of fun colors. A label lovers dream come true. I ordered the a couple of the Combo Value packs and forgot about the iron. Try as they might, my little darlings could not pull these off.

We got a call from a family cleaning out a closet not too long ago. They had discovered a coat with my daughters name in it. Labels work. I smile when I see one of my children has labeled something on their own.

Just for the record I am not a fan of embroidering my child’s name on a backpack or on a sports jacket. To me it’s an invitation for someone who does not know my child to call out their name and pretend to know them. Stranger danger.

Now that we are all germaphobes, given the pandemic, my guess is there will be a lot more labeling going on, as everyone strives to keep others germs at bay. We are more than ready.

Thank you Mabels Labels and Brother

You can never have too many label makers

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