I’ve got these two sewing machines, made about 100 years apart. An old treadle machine from around 1920-1930, that I pulled out of the trash on a rainy day, and a new Brother sewing machine from around 2020.
I’ve always known planned obsolescence was a thing, but I never knew just how insidious it was till I started looking at these two side by side.
I wasn’t feeling hopeful at first that I’d actually be able to fix the old one, I found it in the trash at 2 am in a thunderstorm. It was rusty, dusty, soggy, squeaky, missing parts, and 100 years old.
How do you even find specialized parts 100 years later? Well, easily, it turns out. The manufacturers at the time didn’t just make parts backwards compatible to be consistent across the years, but also interchangeable across brands! Imagine that today, being able to grab a part from an old iPhone to fix your Android.
Anyway, 6 months into having them both, I can confidently say that my busted up trash machine is far better than my new one, or any consumer-grade sewing machine on the market.
Old Machine Guts
The old machine? Can sew through a pile of leather thicker than my fingers like it’s nothing. (it’s actually terrifying and I treat it like a power tool - I’ll never sew drunk on that thing because I’m genuinely afraid it’d sew through a finger!) At high speeds, it’s well balanced and doesn’t shake. The parts are all metal, attached by standard flathead screws, designed to be simple and strong, and easily reachable behind large access doors. The tools I need to work on it? A screwdriver and oil. Lost my screwdriver? That’s OK, a knife works too.
New Machine Guts
The new machine’s skipping stitches now that the plastic parts are starting to wear out. It’s always throwing software errors, and it damn near shakes itself apart at top speed. Look at it’s innards - I could barely fit a boriscope camera that’s about as thick as spaghetti in there let alone my fingers. Very little is attached with standard screws.
And it’s infuriating. I’m an engineer - there’s no damn reason to make high-wear parts out of plastic. Or put them in places they can’t be reached to replace. There’s no reason to make your mechanism so unbalanced it’s reaching the point of failure before reaching it’s own design speed. (Oh yeah there is, it’s corporate greed)
100 years, and your standard home sewing machine has gone from a beast of a machine that can be pulled out of the literal waterlogged trash and repaired - to a machine that eats itself if you sew anything but delicate fast-fashion fabrics that are also designed to fall apart in a few years.
Looking for something modern built to the standard that was set 100 years ago? I’d be looking at industrial machines that are going for thousands of dollars… Used on craigslist. I don’t even want to know what they’d cost new.
We have the technology and knowledge to manufacture “old” sewing machines still. Hell, even better, sewing machines with the mechanical design quality of the old ones, but with more modern features. It would be so easy - at a technical level to start building things well again. Hell, it’s easier to fabricate something sturdy than engineer something to fail at just the right time. (I have half a mind to see if any of my meche friends with machine shops want to help me fabricate an actually good modern machine lol)
We need to push for right-to-repair laws, and legislation against planned obsolescence. Because it’s honestly shocking how corporate greed has downright sabotaged good design. They’re selling us utter shit, and expecting us to come back for more every financial quarter? I’m over it.
flatid planthopper nymph, Singapore. hemipterans (true bugs) like these have mastered the art of covering oneself in weird waxy filaments, which are shed along with their last juvenile molt, revealing a sleek, gossamer-winged adult
Starving to death this morning because ive been to the new local cafe twice this week already and if i go a third time ill look desperate.
Me: I like the goods and/or services you offer in exchange for my money
The cafe, in my head: lmao cringe, kill yrself buddy
The endlessly wailing siren of my social anxiety issues is probably not going to be silenced by the people in the comments pointing out that being a regular at a restaurant is a normal thing for people to be, but I do zero-sarcasm appreciate the attempt, is very kind!
I used to walk into [redacted nonpizza store] in my area and the guy behind the counter would immediately ask me if I wanted a pizza. truly I experienced the mortifying ordeal of being known as the pizza guy
compared to that being a regular at a normal cafe ordering normal breakfast items would be a real relief
Literally dread this scenario, to have your identity *reduced down* to a single item order, to be known as such a plebian with such a restricted palette that your order can be charted in advance, oh widdle ash wants his chicken tendies uwu.
I agree having a set breakfast order is more socially acceptable than a set pizza order. But its not enough; its never enough.
Though life update: i did just go to the cafe in the end. I compromised with my anxiety by ordering a sandwich instead of my typical bagel. It was fine but not as good.
on the flipside, we went to the same place for brunch a couple years, one time my buddy orders something new, and while he’s eating five different members of the wait staff stopped by to be like “did they bring you the wrong thing?”
This thread needs a trigger warning keep the horror stories coming
There was a bakeshop near my house that made soft ginger cookies and and macarons but only 2-3 good flavors. I walked in once and the cashier (who I definitely didn’t recognize) said “let me guess - ginger cookies and cookies-n-cream macarons, right?”
Needless to say, I never returned.
I once went to a McDonald’s, the cashier said “big mac combo meal and a chicken burger, right?” and I said “yeah” and then didn’t come back for two years
This entire genre of concern so fascinatingly foreign to me! the cafeteria pizza guy knows I want 3 slices of whatever veggie pizza he has, and he will have them ready for me without me having to say anything besides a quick murmured thanks, and he smiles when he sees me and starts to grab them, and it feels so good! to be known, even a little bit, to be a small constant in someone else’s life… there’s just something so beautiful and precious and good in that, for me.
When I lived in [the city where I lived for undergrad] there was this place very close to my house with cheap and delicious lamb curry and the people at the counter knew my face and would start scooping the lamb curry into a bowl when they saw me come through the door. I thought this was lovely of them and always made sure to tip generously. Restaurant and regular is a mutually beneficial relationship.
Yeah there’s a bakery/cafe a few doors down from me and reaching the point where they a) remember my face/name and b) know my regular order meant that I can no longer get breakfast anywhere else ever.
Had the guy at the taco truck I routinely went to for lunch who asked me after a few years if I only ate burritos or something, no man I’m just don’t see the need to mix up my lunches.
As someone who’s been both front and back of house in various large and small food services: regulars account for roughly 40% of sales and thier consistency makes it easier to order supplies and keep stock levels stable.
As front of house my regulars were always a welcome sight, an easy serve and clear, a guaranteed a happy customer and pleasant interaction. Especially in diners or lunch spots where reliable turnover = tips and most people never come in more than once, having a familiar face who’s rhythms and tastes you recall makes the rest of your service work easier.
If you have any anxiety about being a regular somewhere just be sure to tip well, and you will magically transform from ‘pizza guy’ or ‘lamb curry dude’ to Beloved Favorite Regular and the servers will squabble to get you seated in thier section.
When I worked for Domino’s Pizza, there was a guy who ordered a pizza, without fail, on Thursday at 6pm. Until the day he didn’t.
One of our drivers was delivering nearby and decided to check on the guy. Turns out the guy got home, got most of the way through the door, and lost consciousness. (If memory serves, it was a diabetic episode.) Driver couldn’t revive him and called 911. Saved the guy’s life.
when i worked in a remote office when i started my job, i went to denny’s for lunch enough that i’d just walk in and a server would go “take a seat over there, I’ll be over with your iced tea to take your order in a moment”
Food service workers love their regulars, especially if you’re a good tipper and are polite, we literally look forward to seeing you every day. Also service workers don’t care if you order the same thing, and us remembering your order means we like you.
^^^^
Also no we aren’t “boiling your personality down to an item/order”, you are. We are offering you preference recall and welcoming you and your *presence* does in fact correspond to our need to give you a certain order. It’s okay for that to happen.
For all my fellow social anxiety sufferers out there. Because my local coffee shop knows I always get iced coffee or a mocha and a biscotti and it stresses me the fuck out because I’m like “What if they think my order is dumb?? What if they’re like there she goes again stuffing her face with biscottis all the time” but nothing matters and a biscotti with your coffee in the morning really makes all the difference in what kinda day you’re gonna have.
I have pretty severe social anxiety, but there was a Chinese restaurant in [town I lived in for a few years] that made some of the very best egg drop soup, vegetable lo mein, and spring rolls. I ordered that every time I went there. They would seat me by a window in a quiet spot because they saw me put earplugs on when things got noisy.
Then I moved to a different but nearby town. I’m unable to drive (due to medical reasons) and public transportation didn’t go near the town. It was a year later, when I had a study group, that I was able to go there again. We had been taking turns for what restaurant we would eat and study at. We’d be there for hours, ordering several meals, and tip heavy, around 50%. Anyone one of us who couldn’t afford to eat or tip would be covered by the rest because several of my classmates were from wealthy families. They covered me more than once in exchange for drawings.
When it was my turn, we went to the Chinese restaurant. I walked in and they immediately knew who I was and what I favored. It was pretty dead in there, so we mostly had the place to ourselves. It ended up being a six course meal and five hours of studying and discussing the project. They brought me my favs as soon as they saw my plate or bowl was empty. The bill ended up at a little over $1k.
A couple months later, a friend took me there where we had a nice lunch after I finished my last exam. The owner approached our table and told me each of the students I had brought last time were now regulars. Some brought more people, and business was booming. They gave me a little card that said I would receive free meals for the next two years, as thanks for being a regular bringing in so many new people.
Before I moved across the country, I wanted to visit the place for a final meal before leaving. The place was closed with a sign that said “moved to new location.” The new location was near the university. So we went there, and the owner informed me that because so many of their new regulars were uni students, they moved. The place was easily 3x the size of their original. They told me it was always packed during meal times, and they now opened for breakfast with tradition Chinese breakfast foods. Business was booming, and all because of their regulars.
Being a regular is one of the very best compliments you can offer a restaurant, diner, meal trucks, etc. They love seeing you, especially if you tip well. I will likely never eat there again due to living more than 2500 miles away, but it feels good that my love for egg drop soup, vegetable lo mein, and spring rolls helped out a wonderful restaurant.
Super fucked up! wtf is wrong with these people? #IamWithMili!
What is every little girl supposed to have long hair in a ponytail? So happy to see all of the support going her way.
Everybody remembers that we absolutely knew this would happen, right?
Like, trans people predicted this from the start. Everyone was SO SURE they could identify us on sight, and we said “If you run with that assumption you’re going face-first into a goddamn wall” and here we go.
It’s like people forget women with short hair exist.
In the six years that this has happened, Milli has continued to play soccer, is on track for joining a national team, and still keeps her hair short.
Read this and take it in.
Even if you have your papers.
Even if you are fortunate to have your gender match your sex.
Even if you were assigned feminine at birth.
They can still tell you to your face you’re not a woman if you don’t conform to a patriarchal standard of skinny Anglo with long hair.
They can just deny you for no reason at all.
THIS MAKES ALL THOSE SPORTS BANS LAWS USELESS AT PROTECTING CIS GIRLS! The very thing tbey were supposed to do!
Let’s get one thing right.
Sports bans, bathroom bans, ANY type of ban on trans people in public places were NEVER meant to protect cis girls or women or women’s sports or any of that crap.
They’re about control and forcing ALL people to conform to stereotypical gender norms and eradicating trans people in the process.
Like, cis in a way that I am still my assigned gender at birth, but I also don’t identify with my assigned gender, you know?
It’s like “My hair is brown” vs “I am a brunette”, you know? One is just a thing that describes me, the other carries a sense of identity. When I check the “female” option for my license, it feels the same as checking the “hair: brown” box. It’s just a trait. It is a description, but not one that I feel any sort of kinship with, nor resentment of. It’s just a check box.
Gender? Yeah, sure, that one. Now lets go get some waffles.
I feel similar, but I add a sprinkle of : your cultural gender categories are not useful to me and I don’t wanna fit in one of your prescribed boxes. So think whatever you wanna assume, I’m gonna go get some tacos.
My pronouns are “I/Me/My” and everything else sounds like a you problem
Sounds about right. Wanna go get some cornmeal waffles made into tacos?
