It’s been almost twelve years, Janome MyExcel.
Mum bought you for me when I was sixteen. You could do zig zag stitch and make buttonholes. You were easy to thread and everything in your clearly designed guide book made sense.
You were the Ford sedan of sewing machines.
I made hippie skirts and simple patchwork and I passed VCE Studio Art with you. I made costumes for student productions in Uni. We have good memories. Thank you for that.
But twelve years is a long time, Janome MyExcel, and you were the basic model even in 1997.
It’s not about you. Well it is about you, a bit. I hate the way you panic in moments of high tension (ha! sewing joke). And you make so much noise. I can’t talk to anybody or watch TV when you’re sewing. You’re a little — well, I won’t say selfish, but you don’t like to share my attention, now, do you?
But I’ll be honest. I owe you that. It’s mostly me. What can I say? Twelve years is a long time and I’m not the same girl I was then. I want to sew denim and leather. I want hundreds of pre-programmed decorative stitches. And I really want a shiny little push-button that makes the needle go up and down.
Call me superficial.
[I just bought the Bernina Aurora 440QE, a heart-stoppingly expensive computerised machine which seems able to do just about anything. It will probably take me months to figure it out. Have any of you used this machine, or own it? I’d love to know what you think.]
EDITED TO ADD: Please don’t contact me about getting a copy of the manual. I don’t feel comfortable giving out multiple copies: Janome owns copyright. Contact them.