Sewing with a sucky sewing machine suckity-suck-sucks. I must have completely blocked out my bad experiences with my own machine which has been in storage for a way long time, like longer than you would like to know. Back in the day, in its hey-day, I sewed suits with princess seams and I lined them and everything. Shoot, I showed up at the salon (I used to do hair) in these Chanel-ish suits I sewed and when the gals who sold the hair products--particularly one Sebastian representative--used to look at me sideways and then I'd run into the back room and take another look at myself to make sure that my seams were straight and that I didn't look too home-made and what was her deal anyway? Do you not like my heels, the ones that match perfectly? What about that peach colored woven? Not up to snuff? Is that it? You don't like my choice of fabrics? (Truth is, what I was actually saying to myself was something more like: "Sob, sob. I just like to sew and I'm sure that if you knew how much pride I had in this peach suit, you wouldn't stand there and stare, and would probably instead say something to me like: "You know, my mom used to sew me stuff. But as far as I'm concerned, I never had an interest, I mean, uhm, I didn't even know that there was a city of any consequence beyond where the 405 meets the 101, hence my sideways look. But your suit? ..it...looks...nice.")
Which brings me to the bandanas that Girlfriend decided, overnight, that she likes to wear. I had this little bandana in her pajama drawer for years. And yesterday or the day before that, she came out of her room wearing a girly outfit--something she wouldn't dare wear during the past two years or so--along with that little bandana. Knowing I had loads of Amy Butler fabric and other bits of odds and ends I decided that I'd make her a few more.
Thing is, my machine is a goner. The tension thingy doesn't work and the bobbin is paralyzed. I guess I don't blame it. It probably died of shame. It's probably all my fault, the fact that it has died of shame, because I have told it for many years that it was inconsequential and stuck it in the garage to drive that point home.
Which brings me to this: I used to love to sew, but when you make mistakes in sewing, it isn't quite the same as it is when you make mistakes in knitting or crochet.
First, when you sew, you use a machine, not your own hands and tools. So, in part, you're relying on a machine to do some of the work for you. And, if you have a suckity-suck-suck machine like I do on your hands with too much in its traumatic past to ever work through in an elegant way, you'll end up losing a ton of fabric. I mean, you can pull out a hem or two, but if the mayhem is anything like what my machine has done to this bit of fabric, you'll end up committing Harakiri before you manage to hem a nine-inch right angle triangle.
Second, when you use your own hands to knit or crochet, at least you can rip out what you've done and fix it without too much trouble. That is, if you are using a yarn without too many emotional issues. That mohair and the angora over there will kill you if you try to tear it out. Just sayin.
Peach out, friends (Ha! Actually, I meant to write "Peace out," but when I saw that I mis-typed "peace" and typed "peach" instead I thought it was sort of--what is that word?--"cathartic"? Yes, cathartic. That is what it is. I loved that suit and for some reason it wasn't for public consumption. But I did love that suit. And the shoes I bought to go with it.
And so my machine is broken and if I want to make a bandana for Girlfriend, I'll have to spend many dollars to get it fixed or find another. Thing is, as I remember it, my mom had an old machine too and couldn't get rid of hers, either. [Not sure if she ever made a peach suit, though.])