One never thinks as laundromats as historic businesses. They come and go, providing their service for a number of years and leaving little trace of their existence when they close up. They're not distinctive operations, one looking much like another, employing the same equipment, the same utter lack of decor, the same elemental services of drop-off, pick-up, detergent dispersal, and making change.
The Launder Center on Seventh Avenue in Park Slope, which I believe was begun in 1947, is the only laundromat I've run into that seems to have a sense of its past. In the front window is an old, black and white photograph, badly faded by the sun, of three women and a man dressed very nicely sitting on chairs in the middle of the laundromat. A note next to the photo describes who the people, all members of the store's founding family, are. The note is very sun-bleached, but I believe it identifies the quartet as "Dad, Dorothy, Joan, Dad," and mentions Jean as the current owner of Lauder Center. The note also makes tender mention of the octagonal clock on the back wall of the photo as being the same one that hangs in the center today. Indeed, this is true.
One should mention, also, the place's antiquated name. No one speak of laundering anymore, only laundry. It's sweet.