heather ross on vintage sewing machines

hi everybody - today is the day for heather's stop at my blog on her "blog book tour". if you are new to my blog thanks so much for visiting!

when i was in new york a couple of weeks ago i had the pleasure of attending a party celebrating the release of a fab new book - weekend sewing - more than 40 projects and ideas for inspired sewing by heather ross.  i spotted a vintage necchi sewing machine - in brown no less - sitting on a table (the very one that you see in that second image). i desperately need to replace my total clunker of a sewing machine (a sear's kenmore i purchased in 1987) and have had my eye on a necchi but had never seen one in person - unless you count the one that's behind glass in the design collection at MOMA.  well of course now i knew that i had made the right choice and couldn't wait to get home and add necchi to my ebay saved searches (i did score a brochure - see previous post - but no sewing machine yet).

i complimented heather on her choice of sewing machine and she proceeded to tell me the most fascinating story about them. she then went on to tell me all about her grandfather's time as a singer sewing machine rep. you know i'm a sucker for crafty history so i was totally blown away.  i knew that we had just the right topic for her stop at my blog on her tour!  what follows (in bold type) is what heather sent me - i just love it and am sure you will too.

I am an advocate for vintage sewing machine, and have had a few great loves in my own life. The first was a sparkly teal-green vintage Singer. It belonged to my great grandmother originally, then my grandmother, and then my mother, who I believe still owns it.

I sewed on it so much in high school that I was allowed to take it with me to college. During my first year in the dorms I set it up on my desk (where my books and papers were supposed to go, this probably explains my less than stellar academic record) and sewed regularly, which I am sure really thrilled my room mate. I do remember one night, when I was lost on some project and keeping her awake, she finally sat straight up in bed and said “Heather. Enough. Sewing.”  The machine worked really well, but at some point the little screw that held the presser foot in place became loosened. I would tighten it as best I could but as I sewed the foot would start to wiggle a little and then shake violently and then eventually get in the way of the needle and then, when the two collided, the needle would break and fly into my face. My solution, partly because the nearest Singer sewing machine dealer was an hour or more away and this model was such an antique that replacing the stripped screw hole was maybe not an option, was to sew with my ski goggles on. I was raised to improvise, not to replace.

My Singer had once lived in China. My grandfather worked for the Singer Sewing Machine in Asia during the late 30’s. America had already been introduced to home sewing machines, and Singer had developed (and had much success with) the first widely used “pay by installment” system in order to enable the average household to afford such a helpful tool. Now, with the depression on in the U.S., they were opening new markets in China. And not just in the cities, but deep into the countryside. My grandfather was one of their men, I think mostly sales and sometimes, debt collections. He travelled by car (there is a family legend of him also taking trips by elephant, which seems believable considering how many towns were not connected by roads at this time, and because an elephant could certainly carry a lot of sewing machines) but no one can say for sure. A record of his sales trips exist in the form of his letters and pictures sent my grandmother, who was living in Saigon. I thought you would like this little excerpt:

                                                   

Mrs. H. L. Beemer     

#45 Rue Garcerie
Saigon
 
Tuesday June 13, 1939
 
Hello my love --
    Arrived here late this afternoon after a hectic trip from Nhatrang.  The car has been up to its usual stuff -- the water pump folded up about 100 km from anywhere & we had to do the stop & fill stunt every 25 km all the way to Nhatrang (the nearest place with a garage). 
They worked till 10 last night making the pump over -- it was too late to go on so stayed there & got another early start today & all was OK till about 40 km out the fan belt broke.  We hailed & bus & the little man wove a belt from some rope he had on hand & we limped into town.  I sent you a dempo then took the bath -- put a wet towel on the old face to rest the eyes & now here I am guzzling an olive (not bad) & taking hand-in-hand to write to mine love.
    Have been traveling through interesting country – from Phanthiet to Quinhon -- you skirt the sea off & on -- about 350 km -- with a few spots very much like Izu -- I wanted to go for a swim but inasmuch as you weren't there -- the punch wasn't in it at all so didn't go in. ...

and it goes on. What I love most about this photo is that he is pouring water into his cars radiator with his hat. He wore hats like that his whole life. So very dapper. My uncle has told me that in China you could not fully understand how many households depended on their Singer sewing machines until a fire tore through a city block or a mountain village, and the streets would fill quickly with Singer Sewing machines, vacated before any other belonging. I believe that the Singer I sewed on came to live in the US just a little while after this letter was written, which would have been about the time my mother was born.

By the time I gave that Singer back to my mother I had learned to take it apart and put it back together again. Every part was metal, every piece stayed shiny and chromed, even when it lived with me in musty cabins and humid old apartment houses. I oiled it sporadically, but used it often. I think this is the trick with sturdy old machines: they long to be used. I had other interests for a while, horses, backpacking, not so much sewing.

When I wanted back in a few years later, I picked up an old industrial Singer. It was a powerhouse, capable of sewing just about anything. It was the most dependable and solid machine I have ever used. I sold it when I moved to New York, because it was far too big to ship and where would I put it? Besides, a modern apartment demands a modern machine. And I knew just the one.

Necchi is the sports car of sewing machines. If Featherweight is a VW beetle, and a Singer is more of a Buick, then a Necchi is really the Fiat or the Ferrari. In fact, the Necchi Mirella is the only sewing machine ever put permanently on display at the Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art, apparently because it is considered to be the most successful design, in aesthetic terms, ever produced. Necchi was the sporty sexy sewing machine, and was extremely successful in Italy. A young Sophia Loren was their spokesmodel (below). An effort was made to introduce the Necchi to the US markets, but failed when the man put in charge was preoccupied with the lovely ladies and high society in New York, and spent much more time out and about than in his office on West 24th street. The next time you are walking down 7th avenue, look for the enormous but faded painting on a brick building of the Necchi Silvia, its ultra modern lines looking avante garde even today. 

I sewed most of the photo samples in Weekend Sewing on my Necchi Maximatic, which is the same chocolate brown model shown in my book. This is a fantastic machine, a little loud, but very reliable and sturdy. Once again, made exclusively of metal parts. I sometimes try to feed it plastic bobbins, but it spits them out. I paid about $75 for this machine on Ebay, and will likely have to have a new foot pedal put on it soon. While I am at it, I may just put a new motor in it. Maybe. I sort of like the gurgle-y sound this one makes. If you are looking for a machine that will look lovely on display, perhaps among your danish or post modern decor, this is a great choice.

And then, of course, there is the Featherweight. If you’ve never sewn on one, you really ought to try. It takes curves and corners with a surprising eagerness. Using these little machines is quite thrilling, a little like doing doughnuts in a volkswagen beetle in the high school parking lot in two feet of snow. I’m especially fascinated by the story that a recent reader sent in about her Featherweight, Bonnie. She was told that her machine, which is a “white” Featherweight, has a hint of green in it (like many of them do) because it was “part of a batch that was sprayed with paint from a machine that had not been properly cleaned first, and still had some green left in it from a previous job”. I wonder. Was it British Racing Green? Ammunition Green? Hmmm. Now that I have heard this story I will never stop wondering... And yes, that would make Bonnie a sibling of the little Featherweight on the cover of Weekend Sewing, who many of you have pointed out, is just a touch green. Take a look at what the pure white ones look like here and you will really notice the difference. For great help finding a Featherweight of your own, turn to Featherweight Fanatics.

I have long been on the prowl for a Singer Junior Miss. This is not a toy machine, just a model meant for small hands. I want it because I need a tiny machine that will travel with me for demos and signings and weekend trips. And because its freaking adorable. In exactly twelve minutes I will either be outbid or I will be the new owner of this little beauty. Fingers Crossed.

Also on my list?

The Elna Grasshopper, with its almost military (its Swiss, after all) sturdiness and innovative carrying case that turns into a work surface. I love the green. It comes in a red, too, FYI.

Another Green Machine, the Necchi Mirella. Look at the color of this sewing machine, like Baby British Racing Green!

wow - wasn't that amazing? thanks heather - i think you are world's leading expert on vintage sewing machines. i am so moved and inspired by heather's knowledge and passion. and i do hope she won the "singer junior miss". i am now going to go into my closet and pull out my mom's beloved singer (it's black and i think probably from the mid 50s) and take a good look at it.

if you would like to get a copy of heather's new book  weekend sewing - more than 40 projects and ideas for inspired sewing please leave a comment (i will close comments tuesday 3/31@ 11:59pm pacific time)  and share your memories of a favorite vintage sewing machine. one lucky winner will be chosen!

update: 4/1 thanks everybody for your comments. what amazing stories! let's all give a big cheer for the winner: amanda who is still using her grandpa's sewing machine!

Comments

[Concha]

Fantastic post!

Heather really makes me look at vintage sewing machines in a completely different angle!

I am lucky to have at my disposal two very old black Singers and one 50's Oliva (a Portuguese brand) and I can't believe I haven't tried them yet!

[Laura Hill]

Thanks for such a great post, and I just looked at Heather's book online yesterday at Amazon, great projects!
I learned to sew on an old black Singer, in our cool basement during hot muggy Michigan summers. Being a very impressionable middle-school kid, I fell under the spell of this vintage machine, making lots of hippie skirts and feed-sack blouses that I wore. The needlework bug had skipped my mom's generation in my family, so my grandmothers both got a kick out of my passion for sewing and knitting. When I see the complexity of their work today, I feel such respect for the talent they achieved by having their own sewing machines as "modern" women of their days, machines that only did a straight or zigzag stitch. The smell of warm machine oil gets me antsy to start sewing.

[sarah]

My mother in law has and still occasionally sews on an old treadle machine. I like to watch her stitch and pretend we're pioneer women.

[Alyssa]

this is so interesting, my mom and i were just talking about sewing machines this morning! i had one resolution this year, and that is to learn to sew! i unsuccessfully attempted sewing in the past, but i was younger and gave up easily! i hope that i can stick with it a little longer this time. my mom has sooo many sewing machines, and she has a hard time passing up ones she sees at garage sales and thrift stores! i have never heard of necchi before, but now i am going to keep an eye out for one!

[nalani]

Love my vintage machines. All of my machines are manufactured in Japan.

First, I got a Brother that is white and red. I think that it's from the 70s. It gives me attitude when I have to do thicker fabrics so I started to look for a sturdier machine. That led me to the Kenmore 158.1660 that I bought at a rummage sale last year and once I cleaned and oiled it, it is running perfectly. I also got a Good Housekeeper from a Freecycle but I have to clean and oil it before I test it.

[Sharon]

I have had a 1936 Singer Featherweight since my high school graduation in 1965. It sews great! I sewed my wedding dress on it in 1967, sitting on a clean white sheet in the middle of my parents living room floor. Sometimes I long for more than just sewing forward and backwards...but otherwise it is a fine, reliable machine.

[jkc]

This post reminded me of my grandma's cabinet sewing machine (sorry, can't remember the model). What's so funny is, because I was so young, what I was really amazed by was the fact that it looked like a simple table. But, when she opened the top, a sewing machine would magically rise up and click into place. I spent countless hours trying to figure out where the sewing machine "went" when she closed the lid.

I now sew on a Husqvarna Madison...not vintage, but an amazing little workhorse of a machine. Simple two dial system and feeds like a dream.

[AmandaWinter]

Here's a little story for all of you about me and my vintage sewing machine...

In October 2007, my boyfriend Ben and I moved into our first place together in Clintonville, a neat little neighborhood here in Columbus, Ohio. Knowing we were in need of some living room furniture, we went to my grandma’s house to pick up a set of these great chartreuse velvet, tufted-back, arm chairs that were living in her basement. While visiting and moving the chairs, I asked her if I could also take the table sewing machine that was collecting dust. She was more than happy to send it with me knowing how much I love to sew and that it really meant a lot to me.

We got moved in and settled in our new place, and a few days later had my parents over to visit. My mom laughed a little at me for wanting the chairs (growing up with them herself, she thinks they’re ugly) but was surprised to see that I’d taken the sewing machine. Her surprise wasn’t a bad thing, she just then asked me if I knew the story behind the machine. My reply was simply that I thought it was Grandma’s, and being the one in the family who really sews, loves vintage, and has a great appreciation for well-made machinery, I thought no one else in the family would mind that I had it. Well, there is quite a story that goes along with the sewing machine that I had never known…

The machine actually belonged to my grandpa, not my grandma as I had always thought. (As it turns out, my grandma isn’t much of a seamstress unfortunately…) I’m unsure of the exact dates, but in the early 1950’s (1950-52 maybe?) my grandpa was in the Air Force and stationed in Lybia. He had been trading his cigarette and alcohol ration stamps with the other soldiers in exchange for money. Over time he saved up enough to purchase a shiny black Necchi “Bu” sewing machine. Where exactly he got the machine, I don’t know, but I do know that he could really make that baby purr. My grandpa was a machinist by trade, and did everything with exact precision and care. While in Lybia he used his Necchi to sew on patches and badges for his fellow soldiers, and with his great attention to detail and precision, you could guarantee that all of your insignia would be up to regulation. After he had built a following by sewing on badges, people started asking him to tailor their uniforms too. He was “peg-legging” pant legs, cropping jackets, and adding a little “hip” style to the drab uniforms.

He returned home to my grandma and uncle (my mom and aunt weren’t far behind…) and brought the Necchi with him. I don’t know how much use it saw from then on, but he took exceptional care of it. He kept it clean and oiled, and out of harms way. (There’s an ongoing joke throughout the family that everything Grandpa touched will out run all of us for the next few generations…)

Grandpa had a stroke when I was around four and passed away in 2002 when I was a senior in high school. Unfortunately when he had his stroke, he lost a lot of his speech and mobility, so I never really got to hear all of the stories that grandpas tell. My mom has commented that she thinks I get my knack for spatial-relations and creating/building things from my grandpa, quite the compliment in my book.

Ben and I now live in the house that he and my grandma shared for 30+ years, so the Necchi is now back “home”. (Don’t worry, Grandma is still kickin’, she’s just moved to a little apartment in a nice community.) I feel really special to be able to live in this house and take care of everything that my grandpa worked for. As a kid, I was lucky enough to have grandparents that lived so close and got to spend a lot of time here. I’ve always been really close with my grandma, and have recently been thinking of Grandpa more and more. I don’t have many things belonged to him, so I feel really lucky to have inherited such a wonderful piece of sewing machinery. She’s in need of a little oil and probably a new belt, but she runs like ‘buttah’. (I would expect nothing less.)

I remember completing my first sewing project, a poodle skirt for Halloween, with my mom when I was in first grade. From then on I helped her with miscellaneous projects here and there, we did some sewing projects in Girl Scouts, but I really started seriously sewing about 5 years ago now when I was in college. I lost my job about 6 weeks ago now, and sewing has been my saving grace. I’ve been using my mom’s Husqvarna (sorry Mom!) and I am really excited to get the Necchi going. I took a bunch of photos today, so if you would like to see it, pop on over to my flickr page (http://www.flickr.com/amandawinter/) I found an interesting add-on piece that I have no idea what it is exactly or what it does (there are pictures.) If anyone out there has any information that may be helpful, please let me know!

Happy Sewing!
Amanda

[Karen]

I have a pink Ford sewing machine but no history about it. Darn. I did much enjoy this post.

[Courtney]

I sew on my Mom's machine- a Bernina Nova that she purchased in the late 70s. I had another vintage machine (bought at an auction for $5.00!) through high school that finally got too expensive to fix, but I have fond memories of watching my dad make his first quilt on the Nova- he took all his Navy uniforms and made a beautiful quilt for his mother.

[kellybot]

This was a fascinating story! My mom still has her 1960's Singer. I wonder if I would sew more often if I had a super cool vintage machine - I think yes!

[Debbi S. in Texas]

I have been sewing since 7th grade; I am now 54 years old and still use my "vintage" 1970's white Kenmore model 1560 that I just love. My first purchase after marriage; my own machine. I had been using my mother's Kenmore at home that was in the original "blonde wood" cabinet from the 50's that stored it and you open the lid and it popped up, with a knee pressure control that I loved having. I love sewing and love my problem-free classic Kenmore 1560.

[Rob]

I love the vintage machines. My first was a Pfaff that I was totally suckered into because I didn't know better. The machine is great but the price I paid was waaaaay too much, especially as it was partially frozen up. Next came a pink Necchi Lelia (which I'm teaching my wife to use) and a series of Singers ranging from a 1906 Model 66 (treadle) which I use to a 500a Rocketeer (one of the coolest looking machines ever). Keep the vintage machines alive!

[Penny]

I think I have found my newest obsession. Shame on you!! ;)

[Sarah]

Sadly, the only vintage sewing machine I have known is the one my mom had (and hated!) during my childhood. Since she was always fighting with her machine, I definitely did not develop any fondness for it. But this post totally has me wanting a cool vintage machine now!

[Aimee]

Would love a copy of that delightful book!
My young memories are of my Mom sewing away on her Singer...it sounded a bit like an old truck heading down a dirt road :) That machine was a work horse and even made my wedding dress!

[Ginger]

I have a mint green vintage kenmore that i bought at a thrift store for 15 dollars- I love it to pieces!

[Kate]

Wow, that kind of opened my world up a little bit. I think I'll be spending a little time on ebay tonight, "learning."

[melanie]

I love vintage sewing machines. They are so beautiful. I love hearing great stories about them.

[dolin bliss]

What a fabulous post! I have had a long affair with vintage sewing machines. It all started when I was a little girl, longing to sew on my great grandmothers Singer treadle machine. From what I remember it didn't have a belt, but I sat and pumped that treadle pretending to sew some really fabulous garments. I was upset to learn that my mother sold the machine a few years ago, I really wanted to learn how to actually sew on a treadle. So as of this past weekend, I bought my own Singer treadle machine from 1898! I am waiting for the new belt to arrive and I can start sewing on her.

My great aunt's 1950's Featherweight was passed down to me and I cherish that machine! It came with all the attachments, the card table and the original receipt. I use it a lot and when I make vintage inspired wedding dresses, I will only use my Featherweight. I also have a Singer 503 (which is nicknamed the Rocketeer) and a 301.

The best thing about these old machines is that you can do all the tune-ups and most of the repairs on them yourself.

[Adrienne]

I love vintage sewing machines. This is a great story. I have a pink and red Morse Super Dial! I am so looking forward to this book.

[LittleA]

My vintage Singer is by far my most prized possession. I'd save it from a burning house.

[trish]

I've been using a newer machine that I "borrowed" from my mother, but this inspires me to get that old pink serger out of the closet (it just needs a new/old foot pedal, I think), and maybe even see if the antique singer that's being stored in the garage can be restored (or at least cleaned up so that it might be displayed?). I love Heather Ross and would love a copy of her new book. Thanks for another wonderful post.

[Jessie]

A few years ago, my mom got rid of the sewing machine she had when I was growing up. She's a purger! (Fortunately, I did convince her to keep her tiny turquoise blue college typewriter!)

[penelope]

I love this post! I use my mom's 1947 Singer - she bought it the year she married my dad.