Due both to a huge amount of recent costumery inspiration and the fact that if I get injured in my jujutsu class, I'd prefer it not be from tripping over my own pants, I once again dug out the manual for my 1968 Singer sewing machine and fired up the ancient monster. I got it at Goodwill some years ago for $30, and it has just about every foot, wobble-wheel, and do-dad it originally came with, including the big plastic case, and is in perfect working order over 40 years after it was manufactured.

They do *not*, BTW, make 'em like they used to. At all.

Besides being something with which one could comfortably beat up a beefy marine, it also has all the buzzes and whistles vis-a-vis stitch length and width control, feed control, and tons of pattern wheels and other gizmos to make my 50s house wife life easier! Add to that the $20 table I got that was *clearly* custom made for this series of sewing machines (the kind where the machine magically folds away) and I've got a pretty impressive stitchery setup for a tech yuppie male.

Thirty minutes and three attempts later, my pants are hemmed.

*take a bow*

Time to hit the thrift stores...