Foldimate, you lovable geniuses. Take something we all hate and make a robot out of it. Meet the solution to the problem you never solve.
Folding clothes. Turns out, piling them in a corner and then tossing them into the dryer is frowned upon by other adults. Learn something every day. Don’t judge…
The San Francisco-based startup has emerged with what looks like a second dryer to fold your clothes.
Notice how the rest of the house is pristine but it looks like someone nuked an Old Navy in the living room? Come on Foldimate, throw in a muddy dog lying on the couch.
Before you plan on ransacking Lowes in search of one, check those expectations. It’s a startup that plans on opening preorders in 2017 for delivery in 2018. That’s going to be a big ass pile of laundry.
Pricing looks to be in the $700 to $850 range when the pre-order page goes live. The company already has 60,000 people signed up to be first in line.
Foldimate is promising anyone can use the machine. Clip your clothes to the front and let the robot action begin. It neatly folds various garments, hits it with a little steam for de-wrinkling.
Need that smell good to be vintage by the time you wear that shirt again? The robotic clothes folder can use perfume capsules to treat and soften your clothes. Yeah, don’t do that.
Speed and Precision
Is it ridiculous? Of course, but that’s what makes it great. Clip on your shirt in under five seconds, folding takes about 10 seconds and the added de-wrinkling takes an additional 20-30 seconds. The company’s idea is that you clip on an entire load of laundry and walk away.
In reality, you’ll end up having to turn on the dryer a few times after you forgot and let the clothes stagnate. Then you clip on each shirt and pants. Sorry underwear, you’re still in the pile. Sheets? Same thing.
Another drawback is it doesn’t iron. Quit being so damn lazy and iron your own shirts…
Once you’re all set and have things clipped, turn it on and go about your day. Sure, you could have just folded the laundry, but hell, it’s a robot clothes folder.
It’s the household moped. Is it nuts you bought it? Maybe. Will your friends and family rib you on the purchase? Definitely. Hell, you walk into the purchase knowing it’s one step away from becoming the human characters on Wall-E.
But, in the end, it’s like a moped. Makes zero sense, the butt of plenty of jokes, but you secretly smile as the little robot arms go to work folding the laundry.
Of course, I want one. You do too. Admitting it is the first step.