Besotted with Starch

I can't say I know what it was like before women's liberation took hold, although there are days when my children think I am that old, but there are things that I do wonder about.
I guess I am on occasion besotted with trying to do things for my husband that in today's world are seldom done. I iron and starch his shirts, which he insists does not need to be done, ugh men.....cotton should be pressed, I am old enough to adhere to that habit. My husband is one of the few men I know who owns and regularly carries handkerchiefs, the honest to goodness white cotton fabric real deal. In our household we share laundry duties, amen for that on many days, however I will still try to iron his shirts....it was on one such day that I did the laundry that it struck me that I should also starch and press those lovely white handkerchiefs. In my own efficient manner I washed them, ran an extra rinse cycle with liquid starch added, my goodness who would have thought I could press them that flat! They were lovely. I was pleased and he was impressed, well at least until the next day when he used one of them. I watched him struggle to find words to let me down gently then resignation came over his face and he blurted out, " I really appreciate your effort to give me nicely starched handkerchiefs but please don't do it anymore. It really is like rubbing the end of your nose with 100 grit sandpaper." I couldn't keep a straight face or choke back my laughter....in all my planning to do something nice I never once gave a thought to how it would feel when he swiped that crisp piece of cotton across the end of his nose. So I now wonder if they really starched handkerchiefs "back in day" and if so did men use them or just tote them out of obligation to a lovely woman who took the time and energy to make sure her husband had a hanky handy worthy of public viewing?