They don't make 'em like they used to.

Today has been a dramatically blustery, stay-in-and-do-projects kind of day. I was pleased about this, as I've been waiting for an opportunity to become better aquainted with my new, vintage sewing machine - the Singer 201. It's so pretty and shiny and old, and totally alien to the ugly hunks of white plastic that I've used in the past.

I found this on a website about vintage sewing machines:

The 201 has gone down in history as Singer's finest model. Although technology has moved on, quality has not... Even today many professional sewers seek out this elusive model as no new machine can come close to this beauty for reliability and stitch quality.

I feel very lucky to own one; it was the best present ever!

But like most things beautiful and elusive, it is also high-maintenance: before you can get going, there's a Krypton Factoresque threading exercise to complete, and the manual - although pretty as pie - is unclear at best and bewildering at worst. I had to 'trial-and-error' it into action.

That said, the sense of satisfaction when I finally sewed a perfect row of bright red stitching was lovely. After practising on an old tea-towel, I laboured long into the afternoon, and made a panelled cushion in suitably vintage fabric, which has been pressed, perfumed and stashed away in a box marked 'Christmas presents'.