The $40 Sewing Machine Lesson About Technology Change

I had been thinking about buying a sewing machine for a while. Not because I had a plan, but because I was spending Tuesday afternoons at a crafty hang group and watching people make cool things. Somewhere along the way, I convinced myself that owning a sewing machine would make my life better.

I had no evidence for this belief. I didn’t know what I wanted to make, how often I’d use it, or even what kind of machine I needed. The feeling alone was enough.

When a used machine showed up on Facebook Marketplace, a small investment felt safer than buying something brand new. I bought it, got it serviced, gave her a name (Agnes), and then did absolutely nothing.

For a month.
Maybe six weeks.

I even bought fabric. Cute fabric. It had llamas on it. And still, the machine sat there untouched.

Looking back, it wasn’t about time. It was about fear. The quiet kind. The fear that once I started, I’d discover I wasn’t very good at this after all.

A deadline changes things

What finally pushed me forward was a deadline. I found a pattern I wanted to make for my grandchild and realized I wanted to give it to him for his first birthday. Suddenly, time mattered.

So I watched a few videos, figured out how to thread the machine, and did some test stitches. Then something unexpected happened. Muscle memory kicked in. Eighth-grade home economics came flooding back.

I didn’t start with the big project. I made coasters instead. Small, contained, error-friendly. Exactly what I needed.

They worked out just fine.

And just like that, I was back in planning mode. Thinking about future projects. Actively resisting the urge to buy more cute fabric.

I’ve seen this pattern before

Somewhere in the middle of all this, it clicked for me that I’ve seen this pattern before. Not with sewing machines, but with technology.

As leaders, we fall into this trap all the time.

We see something another organization has. We read a post on LinkedIn. We hear a peer say, “We just implemented this and it’s been great.” Suddenly there’s a feeling that we just need something too.

AI is the most obvious example right now, but this dynamic shows up everywhere.

So we buy the tool. Sometimes quickly. Often without a clear plan. Frequently without being precise about the problem we’re actually trying to solve. We tell ourselves we’ll figure it out once we have it.

The difference, of course, is scale.

My sewing machine was a forty-dollar experiment. Low risk, with minimal consequences if it didn’t work out. In organizations, that same impulse can turn into thousands, or many thousands, of dollars invested before anyone answers a basic question.

Why are we doing this?

The CRM conversation

Take something like a new CRM. The conversation often starts with, “Our current system is aging out, so we need something new.” That may be true, but it’s not specific enough to guide a good decision.

If the real issues are broken processes, slow turnaround times, or reports no one trusts, new technology won’t magically fix that. Those problems tend to travel with you. You just end up recreating them in a more expensive system.

There are good reasons to invest in new technology. One of the strongest is future capability.

When organizations are preparing to scale, grow, or operate in more complex ways, they need systems that can support what’s coming next. Cleaner data structures. Better integration. The ability to ask questions they don’t even know how to ask yet.

That kind of investment only works when leaders are clear-eyed about it. This isn’t about making today hurt less. It’s about building a platform you can grow into.

And that clarity has to come before the purchase, not after.

The questions leaders can’t skip

Before buying the shiny new technology, we need to slow down and ask a few uncomfortable questions.

What problem are we actually trying to solve?

At the core, is this a technology issue, or is it a process issue we’ve been living with for a long time?

How much discomfort and chaos are we willing to tolerate in order to fix it?

Because real change is never tidy. Processes get messier before they get better. Data often looks worse before it gets cleaner. Productivity will dip before it climbs.

Buying new technology can feel like progress. Doing the underlying work is what actually creates it.

Make the coasters first

So before you invest in the shiny new tool, I’d propose something else.

Run a small test.

Pick one friction-laden process or challenge. Not the biggest one. Not the most politically charged. Just one that reliably creates delays, frustration, or rework.

Work toward making that process friction-free, or at least friction-light.

Then pay attention to what happens. How easy was it to get people on board with the change? How willing were they once the work actually began? Did it take more time than you expected, or less? Where did things break down, and where did they unexpectedly smooth out?

That small test is your forty-dollar sewing machine. A modest investment. Low risk. Very little ceremony. And a surprising number of data points.

Data about your processes.
Data about your people.
Data about how much change your organization can actually absorb right now.

Only then does the bigger technology decision get interesting.

Because now you’re not buying hope.
You’re buying with evidence.

Make the coasters first. Then decide if you’re ready for the quilt.