Readers, you probably already know that I do not do things by halves. I hope you'll remember this as posts about throwing stuff out (aka The Daily Ditch) become the new normal here at MPB, at least until I've cleared most of the junk out.
You may or may not recognize the serger above. I bought it used on eBay and it didn't even come with a thread stand or presser foot -- I had to find those on my own. This machine caused me nothing but nightmares from the get-go -- it's simply hell to thread -- and since I jammed it on a flat-felled denim seam two years ago, it has sat on a shelf at the top of my bedroom closet. Every time I look at it my blood pressure escalates and yet I have never mustered the courage to get rid of it.
I have finally decided that this baby has to go. I'm putting a sign on it that says "Works, but needs a tune up." I'm not mentioning that an exorcism might also be required. I apologize to those of you who are offended by my decision, I just can't look at it any longer, though I admit it's a better looking machine than my Brother 1034D, and much more solidly built.
Let's move on.
No ditching effort would be serious without addressing Cathy's shoe collection. Cathy has more pairs of shoes than I do by a multiple of ten. Many of them were picked up for a pittance, some even found in the street (obviously I'm not the only one with a daily ditch obsession). Too many are cripplingly tight or need repair and Cathy is not the type to repair her old shoes. Where I'm miserly, Cathy is an utter spendthrift and fortunately at present she has very little money, though her taste is impeccable.
I managed to identify four pair that must go and go now. Their memory will live on in various Cathy photo shoots.
But there's more!
I bought this knapsack for a song right before a summer vacation and it is the most uncomfortable knapsack ever made. It looks good, however, which explains why five minutes after I left it in our building trash, it was gone. Like shoes (men's, at least), I really think when it comes to knapsacks, you get what you pay for.
Readers, in our disposable age, there are so many cheap appliances created that are utterly unnecessary, and this battery-operated crapola Conair beard and mustache and ear and nose hair trimmer is one of them. There's nothing this trimmer does (in theory) that you couldn't do with a pair of scissors, and I'm not exactly Sasquatch, after all. OUT!
You probably own or have owned computer speakers in your life. You can probably tell from the color that these were purchased back in the day when all computer equipment was beige or putty or sand, or whatever that awful color (or non-color) was called. These were actually good speakers in their day and they still work, but I don't need them anymore. Plus all those dreadful wires...
If you're like me, your medicine cabinet is bursting with expired health and beauty products that really should be tossed. This Burt's Bees facial scrub was never much good -- way too coarse for my delicate punim -- and the peach smell made me gag. Coming to a landfill near you!
But wait -- there's more!
I picked up this compact fluorescent "putty" (blech) Luxo lamp on eBay for a great "Buy it Now" price (which should have been my first clue), thinking it would be the perfect lamp to sew by. Think again! Like many fluorescent lamps, it hums and -- at least until it warms up -- flickers, which drove me crazy, and the cold, depressing light it emitted made my skin crawl. Hopefully some aspiring mortician will find it.
Finally, I used to have a thing for mid-century modern dinnerware. I still have too much of it. These Finnish Arabia dishes are (nearly) all I have of a set called Anemone. They are scratched something awful (don't let the photo fool you) and weigh a ton. I found them at a local thrift store and that's where they'll return.
Friends, I apologize for only indirectly alluding to sewing in this post. In fact, I feel so bad about it, I will share my latest pattern purchase. I'm not only about ditching, after all!
In closing, I hope I am inspiring at least a few of you to downsize -- or to shop more selectively so that you never have to reach this point of desperation.
It's so true what they say that at a certain point, your stuff owns you, rather than the other way around.
I'm a native New Yorker and self-taught sewing fanatic! I started sewing in 2009 and today make all my own clothes using mostly vintage patterns and vintage sewing machines. Welcome to the warm and whimsical world of Male Pattern Boldness, where the conversation is sewing, style, fashion, fabric, and more!