An ode to an Old Pfaff
I remember growing up my grandmother used to sew all kinds of garments for us. Me, my two sisters and our nise and cousins came over for a fitting session (and to eat cookies) ever so often. The prints where over the top, the puffed sleeves even more so, and there was more than a few stray needles to get stung by. I don’t know if I appreciated it as much as I should when my grandmothers was still alive, but today these are heartwarming childhood.
I inherited my grandmothers interest in sewing early on. In the beginning I was mostly keen on making covers for my pony, and my poor mum had to model when I was doing the fitting. It must have taken a fair share of motherly love to willingly play the part of a pony for your daughters new sewing hobby.
As I was moving on from animal fashion to people fashion, I also inherited my grandmothers old Pfaff and a lot of great patterns. My Pfaff has been a trusted ally for some years now, but its old age is starting to take a toll on him. I have to warm it up for several minutes before I can use it, and it needs oiling every single day. I was hoping to keep my old Pfaff for a couple of more years, but I think it’s time for him to retire and let a new younger model take over the workload.
So here’s to you my old Pfaff! It’s been a blast.