If you've ever read a women's magazine in your life, you've probably come across one of those articles that tells you how often to replace your various cosmetics. And if you've subscribed to as many useless women's magazines in your life as I have, you've seen waaaay more of these articles than you would care to admit. You would know that you're supposed to replace your mascara every three months, for instance. But if you're anything like me, you would replace it every other year and then constantly worry that your failure to replace it every three months is surely going to cause you to blind yourself with contaminated mascara.
Anyway, does anyone know how often you're supposed to replace your seam ripper? I only replace them when I've broken mine by doing something terribly inappropriate with it, like using it as a staple remover. (That doesn't work, in case you're curious.) But I recently happened to get a brand new seam ripper with the purchase of my new sewing machine. (Another aside: why do sewing machines come with seam rippers? Doesn't that seem like something you should have to provide on your own, like how you have to bring your own thread and pins and such to the party?)
ANYWAY. I received this new seam ripper, right? And it's fantastic. It rips through seams like nobody's business. I can't believe how sharp it is. I've been doing a fair bit of seam ripping on my background dress muslin and the new seam ripper makes such a difference, readers. Every time I use it, I get this overwhelming sense of happiness.
I'm sure this is partly a testament to how having quality tools can completely change the sewing experience. But I think it also has to do with the tactile rewards of sewing. Sometimes it's the simple sensory mechanics that I like best: the whir of the machine's motor, the crisp sound of scissors cutting, the feel of thread running through beeswax. And yes, the excellent slicing of a seam ripper into a misplaced stitch. Bliss.
So, you know, go replace your seam ripper! It's a rush, man.