Yesterday, I pulled my sewing machine out of the closet and found all the pieces. It still works! Even more amazing, I remembered how to fill the bobbin and thread the machine. The joke here is that I hate to sew or, more accurately, sewing hates me. In graduate school, if I walked in the costume shop, someone just took what ever I had and did it for me. I had a reputation for “killing” sewing machines. It wasn’t pretty.
So if I don’t really like to sew, why do I have a sewing machine and why does it matter that it works, you might ask? Good question. I’m glad you asked. It’s simple, really. I’ve lost just enough weight that none of my clothes look good on me. My pants are so baggy that I can pull them off without unzipping them. I can’t really afford to buy a new wardrobe, so I needed to fix the one I had. Ta-Daaaaaa ... Oh Brother. (Get it? I own a Brother sewing machine. I know - lame joke. Sorry.)
I’m amazed at how quickly all that trivia about sewing and patterning came back to me when I started this little project. I even found myself looking online at some cute holiday stuff and thinking, “I could sew that!” That’s scary - I just wanted my pants to fit.
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