Letter Six Things Maisie Basket Linda
Everything in my house was chosen. The laundry basket just turned up. This is a letter about the one I finally chose
Six things this quilted basket gets right that twenty-odd years of plastic never did, from a woman who'd never given her laundry basket a thought until she saw somebody else's.
I'm 68, I keep a tidy house, and I'll start with a confession. Everything in that house was chosen. The curtains took me a fortnight to decide on. The cushions had to earn their place. Even the doormat had a shortlist. And the laundry basket, which I see every single day of my life, is a cracked plastic thing that came home from a car boot sale some time around 1998 and simply never left. I never chose it. It turned up, it stayed, and I'm not sure anyone in Britain has ever actually chosen a laundry basket. So this isn't a review. It's a woman who finally chose one, explaining why.
The basket I'm writing about is the Maisie, from Beatrice London, a small British shop that's been quietly looking after women our age for a few years now. I first saw it on the landing at my friend Joan's house, full of towels and standing there as smart as a piece of furniture. When the shop later asked whether they could share my letter, I said yes, as long as I could be completely honest.

Mine, on my own landing now. I'd assumed Joan's was just for show. It was full of towels.
Here's what twenty-odd years with the plastic one taught me. A laundry basket lives one of two lives. Hidden away the moment anyone knocks, because frankly it's an embarrassment. Or on show by accident, cracked handle and all, because you were halfway through the towels when the doorbell went. Somewhere along the line I'd accepted that the ugliest thing in the house would be the one I handled every day, and that was that.
I chose the curtains, the cushions and the doormat. The thing I actually touch every day just turned up in 1998.
This is the first basket I've ever owned on purpose, and after a month of filling it, carrying it, wiping it and folding it away, I can tell you it comes down to six things.

The morning it arrived. It stood straight up and hasn't slumped since.
It stands up on its own, even empty
The quilted sides hold their shape whether it's full of towels or holding nothing at all. No slumping, no sagging into a heap in the corner. Empty, it stands there looking like it's meant to be there, which is not something I'd ever have said about a laundry basket.
Empty or full, it stands there like a piece of furniture. The plastic one went to the tip the same week.
Ann B., DoncasterThe design goes all the way round
The bee and the daisies go right round the basket, so there's no wrong side to turn to the wall. Wherever you put it down, whichever way it lands, it's facing the right way. The plastic one had two sides as well. Ugly, and uglier.

The bee up close, with the honeycomb quilting behind it. It faces the front door and people ask about it.
There's no bad side to hide against the wall. The bee faces the door and every visitor mentions it.
Gillian F., LudlowThe handles are stitched on properly
Two sturdy canvas handles, properly stitched, that a full load of wet washing hasn't troubled one bit. They don't dig into your fingers on the stairs the way a cracked plastic rim does, which anyone who's carried a week's towels down two flights will appreciate.

The cuff and one of the handles. Sturdy, stitched, and kind to your hands.
Carried a full wash down two flights of stairs and the handles didn't so much as creak.
Susan H., RiponQuilted and soft, but it wipes clean
The quilted material is soft to touch, but it shrugs off the everyday splashes a basket gets by the sink and under the washing line, wipes clean with a damp cloth, and goes in the machine when it needs a proper wash. Pretty things are usually precious. This one isn't.
Splashed by the sink twice a week for a month. Wipes off with a cloth and still looks new.
Brenda W., TauntonIt folds flat when you want it gone
It's light, and it folds down flat to slide under the bed or into the airing cupboard, then pops back up standing. When the family descends at Christmas and every corner is needed, the basket obliges. The plastic one never obliged anybody.
Folded flat and under the bed when my son visits with the dog. Pops straight back up like nothing happened.
Kathleen D., KeswickThree sizes, and thirty-five designs
A small for the bathroom, a medium for the bedroom, a large for the family wash. And the Maisie is just one design of thirty-six in the collection. There's one covered in sea turtles that I've had my eye on for the bathroom, which is apparently how these things start.

Mine, and the turtle one I'm pretending I haven't made up my mind about.
Medium for the bedroom and the small for the bathroom. The prettiest useful things I own.
Norma J., WhitbyThis basket, against the one that just turned up
Nobody buys a laundry basket on purpose. That's the problem. One arrives, somehow, and stays for decades. Here's the difference, laid out plainly.
Cracked rim that digs into your fingers
Hidden in the spare room when anyone knocks
Slumps, splits and yellows with age
One ugly side, then the other
Never chosen, never liked, never gone
Sturdy stitched handles, kind on the stairs
Stays out, and gets asked about
Stands up smartly, even empty
A design that goes all the way round
Chosen on purpose, at last
About the price
The small basket is £34.95 at the moment, down from £116.50. The medium is £39.95 down from £133.15, and the large, the family-wash one, is £44.95 down from £149.85.
I'm careful with money and I won't pretend otherwise, so I'll pass on what the shop told me: they're a small business selling direct, and there's a sale on to make room for the winter stock. Their words, not mine. What I can tell you is that at that price I didn't deliberate for long, and that Joan has since bought the large.
I don't trust perfect scores, so I read the reviews before I ordered. Just over three hundred of them, sitting at 4.2 stars, which sounded like real people, so I kept reading. The same six things I've just walked you through come up again and again, in other women's words.

On duty by the machine. The plastic one went to the tip after twenty-odd years of service. No tears shed.
If your laundry basket also just turned up one day and stayed, this is the one I'd put in your hands myself, while the design you want is still there.
Linda
Maisie | Quilted Storage Basket
- Stands up on its own, even empty
- Bee and daisy design that goes all the way round
- Sturdy, properly stitched canvas handles
- Soft quilted material that wipes clean and washes
- Folds flat and stores away when not needed
- Three sizes, from £34.95 · 36 designs in the collection
- FREE UK & Ireland delivery & 30-day money-back guarantee
Sale on now, making room for the winter stock. The popular designs go first.
