When I was big enough, she'd let me play around with her sewing machine. I made misshapen and crooked outfits for my dolls and primitive-looking purses. I can't tell you how many times I'd lose the thread and ask her, for the millionth time, to rethread the machine. In high school, I went through a weird obsession with men's dress clothes and would find the cheesiest old-man pants and button down shirts and cut them up to sew them into feminine looking pieces. I even broke something on it once that led to a costly repair, but she always still let me practice and was willing to teach me new things.
Not surprisingly, my mom learned everything from my granny. And now that I have two daughters of my own and I've rediscovered this hobby, it's kind of cool to be carrying on this tradition of sorts. There's just something amazing about seeing an outfit in the mind's eye, putting it together and then having it come to life as your kid wears it. (In our case, it's dresses because that's what Miss E only wants to wear these days!)
My machine is from the early 80s and made by a Cleveland company that is no longer in existence: White. My granny bought it at one point, but never got to use it due to age and arthritis and whatnot. It was brand new in the box when she gave it to me, and yet still "vintage." My retrophile heart was instantly in love!
This thing is a tank. Manufactured in a time where metal was still used for the casing (most modern machines are all plastic), I have no fear of this beast breaking down on me any time soon. She's as solid as can be. She's also loud when she whirrs, and there's nothing fancy or high-tech about her. But she gets the job done and I love her.
