So my weekend purchase may be a biblical mandate: My roomate and I invested in a sewing machine. As a Christmas gift to each other, and as a means to funnel our creative energies and expend the inspiration we so often get from the beautiful endless supply of fabrics here. (Just four blocks north of my house is an entire "fabric street" -- open walled street-side shops upon shops displaying heaps of fabrics. It's like JoAnne Fabrics on steroids, in Asia. :)
And so, after weeks of debate and much consideration, we headed north to the "sewing machine street" which in a similar manner displays table after table of sewing machines dating back to well before my grandmother was born all the way through Mary Tyler Moore's glory days. They are reasonably priced, have great re-sale value, and have been well-maintained by skilled sewing machine masters.
We spent several hours Saturday and Sunday with a lovely gentlemen, who walked us through endless demonstrations on needle-threading and taught us each to sew buttonholes, patiently putting up with our video-taping and frantic note-taking! Buttonholes!? Folks, the sky's the limit at this point. I am over the moon.
Introducing the newest member of our household: Brother Joy.
She comes with a table AND an old school foot pedal, so that we have uninterrupted sewing even if the power goes out! (However, there is an electric motor and pedal, which I'll most often use). We got her and ourselves home crammed in the back of a tuk-tuk, looking entirely goofy and laughing the whole way home. And now we have a sewing machine. At our house.
It's a time to sew.
No comments:
Post a Comment