OK, so for you non-sewers out there reading this blog, it may sound absolutely insane that I wanted to initially start out this post with: “Dear walking foot, where have you been all my life?” Yes, probably for those who don’t think sewing is cool (which, really, you should reconsider), this sounds pretty lame. But seriously? Walking foot? I think you’re my new BFF. It’s TLA & TLF over here between me and you. You have a bad reputation, but I want everyone to know the real you. Let’s explore your beauty, shall we? I offer you this love letter of our history together:
You were born in this quaint little box by the river:
This is what I was greeted with when I first laid eyes on you. So cute snuggled in your Styrofoam home! How could a girl not fall for you?
You came with two attachment feet, a screwdriver, two seam guides (left and right) and another u-shaped piece with a screw that I’m not sure what to do with. Gee. I wish you came with a user manual. Oh wait! You do! But it doesn’t tell me what to do with that little piece. You are such a complex person ummm… foot.
Here are your two soles. They are so similar – it’s like we’re playing “one of these things is not like the other.” But the subtle but useful differences in your clever toes are just another facet of your pragmatic personality.
And the feet… Those cute little black feet that are responsible for all of the walking that you do.
Remember when we first shook hands? Was it as thrilling for you as it was for me? This little arm of yours is where all the magic comes from.
And how you let me change out your soles…
OK, so Igot a little too close for comfort and you put up your defenses. We all need personal space and I respect that.
At first, I had no idea how to best make use of your many talents. I was going about it all wrong, not putting your magical arm to good use:
But then, little walking foot, you showed me what you’re truly made of:
The arm hangs on to the needle housing so that the feet move up and down with the needle to hold the fabric down and move it along at a steady pace.
Those little black feet of yours walk between the openings in the soles, bringing the fabric along with the rest of the batch. I swear, that walk might even be runway ready!
Walking foot, you have changed my life. You are quiet, graceful, and delightful to have. Fabrics don’t slide, long strips of cotton with interfacing in between stay straight and fabric doesn’t stretch out leaving all that extra fabric at the end of long seams. I know… I’m late to the lovefest. But will you still have me?Posted by robyn on July 23rd, 2008 under bernina 440 qe, crafts, sewing, sewing machines, tutorials
Handmade High Tech
I'm Robyn. Thanks for stopping by! This is my craft blog.
Contact me at robyn [at] dognamedbanjo [dot] com.