Oh, Bowie

My dear Bowie sewing machine, how I love you. It’s just such a pity that you only have two settings; off, or ON LIKE A MOTHER FUCKER. This is what comes from naming a piece of mechanical equipment after a drugged musician from the 70s.

If I had to pinpoint an era, I would say my sewing machine would be equivalent to Bowie’s Thin White Duke, albeit in a squat, cream form. On the surface it appears fairly held-together, but underneath the suave regal frame (it is a Bernina after all) there lurks a beast of Jabberwocky proportions.

I should really have named it after a benign and reliable type of person, like Taylor Swift perhaps. Someone clean, who plays an acoustic guitar and is photographed a lot in nature (or studio versions of nature).

I guess the only thing I could ever sew with a clear conscience on a sewing machine called ‘Taylor’ is a sturdy set of chastity underwear. Good thing I stuck with Bowie then. I can safely sew sleeveless 1950s housewife dresses whilst thinking dirty thoughts freely.

Time to grit my teeth and take on the virility of Bowie again. If only I was referring to the man and not my machine. Sigh.

Letter to a Sewing Machine

Dear Bernina Sewing Machine (possibly called Bowie or Fleetwood),

I hardly knew what life was before I found you. You are beautiful, my Bernina 801 Sport. Your brown 80s facade is like the delicate crust of soil on the edge of my favourite boots in winter. Your plastic tartan cover is like the best of Johnny Rotten and the best of Mrs Beeton combined. I want to thread your needle and wind your bobbins all night long.

I am sew into you, my Bernina. I know you will forgive my horrible puns, because you are so Swiss and stoic. We could make great things together. We could be happy just in each other’s company as time unspools before us. I promise to rub your feet after a long, hard day and service you anytime you want.

Be mine, oh beautiful Bernina Machina, always. At least until I can afford to upgrade to the delicious Bernina 1008.

All my love

xoxox

n

Sew Accomplished

I feel very much like a sixth Miss Bennet these days. Possibly a bit pre-empted, since I’ve only just started sewing, and I can’t play the piano or do tatting or embroider and am not in the least concerned with ribbon as the proper Bennets are. But I’ve started sewing at least! And I love it! Already I’ve learnt the power of tacking (as my mother learnt the power of tacking and so passed it onto me), and I can sew and pin and cut and hem tentatively but proudly. The pattern is from Simplicity Lisette, and you can find it here.

I felt so incredibly happy and Bennet-ish while hemming my dress that I can’t wait to try my hand at more! The dress sits quite well. I'm somewhat of a conservative when it comes to dresses; this one sits just above my knee.

The darts in dresses always concern me a little. The boob darts are potentially problematic because all ladies are differently endowed. There is always a risk that the darts will end up making you look like you're wearing Madonna's conical bra underneath. This dress is more forgiving; the darts are sewn in an interesting V shape in the front, which I guess makes it architectural as well as functional.

It seems infinitely more justifiable to spend money on fabric rather than buying pre-made stuff because they are so cheap to make yourself. There is also a fairly solid guarantee that they will be original. And how lovely to be able to say proudly ‘I made it myself’! Completely egotistical of course; that is Caroline Bingley getting in the way of my modest accomplishments. At least I am and will probably always be incredibly crap at piano. And will probably never give a toss about ribbons.