The Zipper Foot I Love and the Secret to All Good Sewing

                My siblings and I regularly receive large flat-rate boxes from my mother filled with the "non-negotiables," which is her and my aunt's loving nickname for the stuff they've decided we need to consider owning from my other aunt's collection.  Some of these boxes are filled with truly interesting things.  Some of them I keep, and some are passed along to friends who could use them.  Other times, the boxes can best be described as non-consensual clutter.  I did not request it, and I don't want any of it, but it is in my house.  Those end up headed to the thrift store, because some of the stuff is still useable, even if it isn't my style or is in a category that is already overflowing at our house.  If there are any broad categories of stuff you wish would come to your house, let me know.  I assure you that there is most likely something from that category in the collection of stuff that is being rehomed by my mother and her sister. 

                I sent out a few well-packed flat rate boxes myself this week.  Two contained the quilt that was redone about a month and a half ago and a set of cushion covers my sister had hit a wall creating.  She thinks I'm magical.  I think even the oddest-shaped seat cushion is easier to fit than a body.  I have no doubt she will be impressed by the cording on the covers, as that was something she had planned to skip over entirely, and by the zippers she had planned to bypass with the clever use of buttons.  She thinks I'm magically skilled.  I think I have the zipper foot that doesn't suck.

                About twenty years ago, the good folks at Bernina redesigned the accessories setup for their classic workhorse domestic machine, the 1008.  Rather than full-size feet that were clamped into the machine, they offered clip-on feet that would attach to the shaft.  It makes good sense until you get to the #4--the zipper foot. 

                I hate the clip-on zipper foot with a fiery passion.  I have been known to sneak my own zipper foot into work situations that only have the clip-on feet.  It just doesn't work for the situations for which costuming regularly requires a zipper foot.  The cording gets awkwardly shifted at a crucial moment, leaving you with ugly work.  The zippers are not as nice.  You will tear my "zipper-foot-that-doesn't-suck" from my cold, dead hands.

                Frankly, there is little mystique to what I do for a living.  It's all practice, the right fabric, and the proper equipment.  I thread a needle more often than most people tie their shoes, so of course I can do it quickly with less concentration.  I also own several dozen needles with various sizes of eyes and styles of points, so I also have the option of pulling out something with an eye that will accommodate the thread in question.  Most people have installed a couple zippers in their lives, either in a class or in a blind panic before dressing for work one day.  For me, zippers have been a constant companion, and my installation count is probably somewhere in the hundreds.  Some of those zippers looked terrible.  Some of those zippers were placed with more care than the figurines on a wedding cake.  One of those zippers was replaced over a fifteen minute intermission like my hair was on fire, causing a lifelong distrust of invisible zippers (as if the day I had to sew a friend into her dress didn't do that).

                Be patient with yourself when it comes to sewing.  I assure you that the fifteenth time you do something is a lot easier than the first.  I also assure you that every sewing artist has a few skill sets that have to be relearned every time they are required.  One friend has the hook and eye tape page in her sewing manual marked for her annual review before delving into Dickens bodices.  Another politely avoided vintage costuming for years to avoid zipper placement.  No matter how many times I do it, I still look up just about every sleeve variation I pattern, convinced I am doing it wrong. 

                In conclusion, if you ever hear me request to take a piece home to install the zipper, know that the machine I have with me has a crappy zipper foot, and I am concerned that I will do bad work for you.  Let me take it home to revel in the zipper foot that doesn't suck.  It's worth it.