I need a sewing machine

I have come to that realization. I need one. I must be the last crafty person without one, but I am one. I could finish so many things if I just had a bleeping sewing machine.

Not to mention, I could start making myself clothes. One of the cruddiest parts of being, erm, voluptuous is that they just don't make pretty clothes in anything over a 14. Over that, if it's reasonably priced, it's made of a flowy fabric in either a jungle or floral print, with a sequin or an elastic waistband. Because we all know nothing makes a butt look smaller than encasing it in knock-off organza with a large flower, flashing like a disco ball. And it does one's self-esteem wonders to find a waistband mark when you take off your pants.

I do know how to sew. I learned in college. One of the benefits of my major was that I pretty much learned useful life skills--makeup application (I can make pretty realistic fake blood), sewing, even how to use a drill and nailgun in Set Design class. My costume professor was more than just a designer; he was a tailor and a fashion fan--you never realize how flattering it is to have a man notice your clothes til one looks at a beautiful embroidered dress you are wearing and says, "Girl, I likes your dress" (those were the days I was a 6). Anyway, so I know how to work a sewing machine, and I learned how to pick fabrics that speak about the person who is wearing the garment, and I do have a fashion sense. Not to mention, I work down the street from G Street fabrics, which is the ultimate fabric store in the Washington area, and I could be the best-dressed fat girl cross stitcher you ever saw . . .

If I had a sewing machine.

It's not like I MEANT to go this long without buying one. My grandmother and I could never agree on what we needed. She wanted one with a drop-in bobbin, though, to be honest, she never sewed the whole time I lived with her, but I can handle getting it in the machine. So we were at a stand-still. Now that she's gone, I guess I can get what I want. I just have to find a decent priced one, preferably a Brother. My professor liked Brother best. I trust his judgement--after all, he liked my dress, LOL.