This weird obsession started pretty innocently.
For years I have sewn on a mid-1980s Pfaff Tipmatic sewing
machine that I purchased while I was living in Germany, it’s was a great
machine that I really liked. One year I
just got the bug in me that I needed (needed, not wanted) a new sewing machine
and decided on a Babylock machine called the “Soprano” (nicknamed Tony, of
course). But I couldn’t let go of the
Pfaff machine – I might need it one day!
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| 2016 Babylock Soprano Sewing Machine aka "Tony" |
I was given a vintage sewing machine by a friend from work,
in a cabinet that needed some work.
Nice, older White Rotary sewing machine.
Pretty cool, but there wasn’t a real emotional pull to that
machine. I don’t know why. It was a great present, the price was right,
but no love was involved.
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| White Rotary Sewing Machine |
Many years prior, Alan found a sewing machine and cabinet in
the trash one day – he brought it home, cleaned it up. It was an end table for years, at my home, my
brother’s home, but again not a huge emotional connection to the machine.
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| Mom's 1953 Singer Featherweight |
Then I started thinking about my mother’s sewing machine. It was a cute little Singer Featherweight that I learned how to sew with. I started by just moving the balance or hand wheel as Mom didn’t want us to use the foot pedal. Soon, though we were allowed to use that as well. This practice sewing that was used to make Barbie® clothes and blankets and more. The more I thought about this machine, the more I wanted one.
Now, that’s an emotional connection!
I started searching on Ebay, Facebook Marketplace, CraigsList,
etc. and found out that these little vintage machines are crazy expensive! I reached out to my ex-husband (aka
step-brother) to find out if the Featherweight was something that my father had
in the house up north (that he was currently living in). It was found and shipped to me within a week. Hurray!
I took it to the neighborhood sewing machine repair shop to
give it a tune-up and fix the electrical repair that my father did at some
point in time. I was not going to have a
Featherweight with a white extension power cord. No way.
Sandy at the Sew and Vac Center did a great job and the machine runs
great. It’s a little power horse for
going through multiple layers of denim fabric.
So Liz was happy with her Mom’s 1953 Singer Featherweight machine,
her old mid-80s Pfaff, her new Soprano and
the Brother Overlock machine that her husband surprised her with! What more could I need? Why nothing.
I didn’t need a thing.
Until.
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| 1941 Singer Model 128 AG133259 |
Until I saw a 1941 Singer model 128 with a Godzilla finish
in a bentwood case. I think I really
fell in love with the box. Yup. That had to come and live with me.
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| 1952 Pfaff Model 130 |
Until I saw a 1952 Pfaff model 130, with an original sewing
cabinet with dovetail joinery, and a coffee grinder attachment (it’s actually
an embroidery attachment, but makes a coffee grinder noise). Almost mint condition. This is a beautiful sewing machine.
Until I saw a 1947 Singer Featherweight with the scrollwork
on the front plate of the machine.
