Miss Supermatic, you break my heart,
I loved you so much I even replaced a part.
And after that you sewed like a star –
I even managed to make my first bra!
So why is it now that you will not start?
Miss Supermatic, you taught me to sew,
At the kitchen table with my mother in tow.
The early days were a bit of a haze,
But I remember so clear the later years.
Remember that ball dress in emerald green?
Those grey velvet knickerbockers (that seldom were seen!)
My first tailored blazer, in grey and white wool,
The matching skirt lives on in family photos still.
The little red waistcoat from Burda I found
With leatherette piping and buttonholes bound.
The interview blouse with ruffles galore
Funny how now there are some in the stores!
I missed you often when I left home,
I studied, graduated, the world I did roam
I saw a lot that I wanted to see
And discovered a lot that I wanted to be
An essential tool when at fashion school
You were ditched for a bigger, industrial jewel.
But your vintage charms remained in my heart
And I relived my childhood whenever you’d start.
For now I need your zig-zagging skills
To sew stretchy fabrics and make buttonholes
If you’re not going to start, I might break your heart
And look for a younger and trendier upstart.
Dear Miss Supermatic, in vintage green
From now on you’ll be far less seldom seen.
But I’ll always, always, forever love you
For all those things that you taught me to do.