On Black Friday, I bought a sewing machine. I was super duper excited because I've been coveting one for years. For someone that spends as much time on Pinterest as I do, it was basically sacrilege that I did't own one. So when I saw a nice simple, beginner model at Target, I just had to snatch it up. I couldn't wait to whip that baby out, and start sewing wonderful creations including some great paper crafting ideas as well. But Christmas craziness took over and I didn't get a chance.
Now that the holidays have died down, and I'm moving along on my other crafty (super-secret) project, I took the chance to take the machine out of the box and learn all the nuances and technical jargon I'd need to sew to my little heart's content.
Yeah...that was what I was hoping would happen.
What actually happened was me staring at the "Quick" (what this thing was, was anything but "quick") start guide with the machine sitting next to me silently judging me for the fact that I'm an idiot. Women have been sewing for decades with sewing machines, when did they get so complicated? When did loading the bobbin take 6 different steps, and apparently a PhD to accomplish? And more importantly why can't I figure out how to do a darn thing with the machine? Do you know how many buttons this thing has? Do you know how many are labeled? Zip, Zilch, Nada. And most importantly, if little old ladies have been accomplishing gorgeous works of arts with these things for years why can't I sew a darn straight line on some fabric?
I'll tell you why, it's because the Singer people have it out for me. At least that's what I'm going with. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I've never used a sewing machine and am rubbish with reading diagrams. Nope. It's the Singer dudes. They're evil...
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