Ode to an Iron

The Oreck iron above was my faithful companion for fifteen years. Given to me back when I was a young teen with grand sewing ambitions, I loved the cordless feature, the auto-shut-off safety, and the expansive heating plate of the iron.

I also loved that it lasted for 15 years.

Last week, after undergoing a cleaning, the Iron finally gave up the ghost. We rushed it to our local Oreck store, begging them to save it, but alas, no hope. Once the heating element burns out, an iron is unsaveable.

The Oreck blue is a highly rated but no longer manufactured product. You can still find it on eBay, however, so we are trying to track one down for me. It's been my perfect iron, and it would be tough to replace it with anything other than an exact clone.

Those who don't sew often find it surprising how physical the art can be. A big part of this is the heavy role ironing plays in creating a perfectly stitched piece. (yes, pun intended.) There is almost nothing I create with my sewing machine that doesn't involve some level of ironing, whether my elaborate costumes requiring protective cloth over delicate velvet and silk, or pressing out the stitched corners of the floursack towels for Whimsical Kitchen. (Almost) everything looks better ironed.

For now, I'm stuck using my little travel iron. It's easy on my arms, and indeed, I bought it for use on my bad fibro days. However, as you can see above, it is tiny compared to the Oreck, and I find myself greatly slowed.

I never thought an iron would make me cry, but seeing this faithful companion leave has made me quite misty-eyed. Farewell, old friend.