Dear Jocelyn Navarro,

How’ve you been? It’s been 10 years since we’ve graduated from high school. I looked for you on Facebook but I have to admit that it took a few not-so-subtle inquiries from high school friends to juggle your name out of the cobwebbed corner of my memories; the littlest corner containing memories of leather mary jane shoes and white socks, mismatching the color of my skirt to the ribbon of our uniform on Wednesdays, and developing a mild case of neuroticism.

I feel like the biggest jerk, I really do. But you see, you have not crossed my mind until a week ago. A week ago, I found a serger sewing machine on eBay and memories of you commanding the huge serger machine during sewing class in high school came back.

serger1

You should not feel bad that I could not recall your name. If it makes you feel any better, I remembered your face. I remembered that you were tall. I remembered that you were generous and were always smiling. I remembered that  you were incredibly skilled because you were the only one our teacher trusted with the serger and the only electric sewing machine in school. While we labored with the antique Singers, you breezed through our projects with your beautiful sounding machines.

serger3

So here I am with my newly-acquired second-hand serger. I’m sweating because of the humidity. I’m sweating because threading this thing is more difficult than passing the UPCAT exam. I have read the manual at least three times, even tried it upside down but I am stuck with the whole threading affair. It seems, Jocelyn, that I need your help now, as all of us girls did back in high school.

serger4

I will be calling the good people from Singer and ask them to teach me how to use this contraption. I plan on talking the ears off of whoever will be sent to my apartment about how I knew a girl who could thread a serger in her sleep, a girl who made the edges of all our cut projects pretty and safe from unraveling, a girl who never flinched when the fast electric serger made our 14-year old hearts nervous.

I hope you’re well.

Love,

Meream

Advertisements