Singer Song of Sixpence
Random sewing machine ramblings of a Singer sewing machine fan, collector, user, restorer and seller, with a smattering of traditional bicycle chat thrown-in for good measure... and typewriters too, sometimes.
Tuesday, 20 January 2015
Moving to a new home
All my websites and blogs have moved under one roof and can be found here to my main web site.
Sunday, 7 December 2014
The Good, the Bad and the Ugly
There are three types of sewing machine that pass through my hands on a regular basis, and they can broadly be categorised as the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. Here's a little about each:
The Good. These are the ones you get to buy. They're the machines that are either technically excellent and make superb machines to use every day, or the unusual and beautiful collectors machines. They're usually old dating up to the mid-20th century. A few might even date up to the 1980s. A few examples:
The Bad. These are the machines that are either junk or machines that would take too much time to fettle back to life. The junk are generally late 20th and early 21st century machines full of plastic mechanicals, are not designed to be serviced, and are, frankly, a waste of the plastic they're made of. The others are the once-excellent machines that have been neglected. A machine kept in an attic or shed for decades will frequently have rusted itself into an ugly mess, or one that's been oiled regularly in a former life but never ever de-fluffed and cleaned. The time required to deep-clean those machines exceeds by a large margin their commercial value. Exceptions are made for very rare or unusual machines. But generally speaking, once they reach that stage they become organ donors. These are the machines that sacrifice themselves in order that others may live.
The Ugly. Oh the ugly. These are the ones that are technically superb and still have a lifetime of service to give. But nobody wants them because they're aesthetic monsters. There's a general rule of thumb that if you love a machine, you will look after it and use it. But the ugly ones are hard to love. I seem to be fairly alone in that I can see their inner beauty. I judge a machine on how well it works, and often they do so as well as the best and most beautiful machine. They fill me with an inner glow. So what happens to them?
They get adopted - by me, usually. Much as I'd like to retain a collection of stunning and rare machines, I can't because I have a house full of mongrels. Some examples of the little darlings that have ended up staying here:
Jones Popular
Anyone who has ever used a Jones will tell you what a thrilling machine it is to use. It's mechanical simplicity, it's accuracy and the overall 'feel' is just superb. I've never met a Guide Bridge-made Jones that I didn't like to sew with.
Mechanically identical to the Jones Family CS machines, this machine differs only in that the machine bed is extended downwards to form the base.
But it's the finish people dislike. It was available in two finishes, hammered enamel grey and a dull textured black.
After being on sale for six months, it became plain that this would become another adoption. It's too good to strip for parts (I will never willingly kill a perfectly good machine!) and sews so beautifully that it deserves to live. And live it does. It's my go-to machine for when the machine needs to go to the work, and for summer sewing sessions in the garden and will sometimes feature in my 'how to' videos.
Singer 328k
Quite possibly (and probably) one of the most useful sewing machines I have ever owned. Out of the box it's straight stitch and zigzag, but via interchangable cams it can do a whole range of decorative stitches. It will take two single needles for twin needle sewing, has a positionable needle and stitches button holes (and buttons!) superbly. When it arrived with me it was electrically unsafe, but I detest electric machines and so converted it for treadle use. It's become my main man for any work that requires more than just a straight stitch.
Again, a machine that was on sale forever and nobody wanted it. But secretly, I'm quite pleased about that.
PMZ M-100
This one fascinated me. Imported and badged by Chapman Sewing Machines in the mid-late 1960s, it's the model M-100 made at the Podolsk Sewing Machine factory. Podolsk is an industrial city about 35 miles south of Moscow.
The factory was built in the late 19th century by Singer and manufactured the usual range of Singer machines of the day. But then the Bolsheviks came along shortly followed by the birth of the Soviet state, and by the 1920s the factory was state owned.
On my travels I frequently come across the Soviet version of the Singer 15 and it's a good machine and quite common across most of Europe. One of these days I hope to find one in the UK and add it to my collection. But I was always curious as to what other machines they made.
Despite some being a bit "sniffy" about Soviet engineering, there's absolutely nothing about this machine that can be considered bad. The quality of the mechanicals is up there with some of the better machines in the world, and it's a dream to sew with. It was some time between acquiring and using the machine that I even uncovered it's origins.
But of course nobody wants it! The brown hammered enamel finish upsets the aesthetic sensibilities of most people, and so it was destined to stay on the shelf. Rather than subject it to the misery, I've adopted it. It will form the starting point of a collection of Soviet-era Eastern Bloc made sewing machines. Well if I'm to champion the down-trodden, I might as well go in up to my neck!
So there's three examples of what happens to the Ugly. There are others that I'll no doubt write about in the future.
Until next time, cheerio.
The Good. These are the ones you get to buy. They're the machines that are either technically excellent and make superb machines to use every day, or the unusual and beautiful collectors machines. They're usually old dating up to the mid-20th century. A few might even date up to the 1980s. A few examples:
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| Frister & Rossmann 35, in mint condition |
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| Willcox & Gibbs 'Silent' |
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| Singer 28k in near-perfect condition |
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| Vickers, complete with all accessories |
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| Frister Star 60, upgraded by me to hand crank |
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| Singer 201k, a real beauty |
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| Jones Family, c1870s-1880s |
The Bad. These are the machines that are either junk or machines that would take too much time to fettle back to life. The junk are generally late 20th and early 21st century machines full of plastic mechanicals, are not designed to be serviced, and are, frankly, a waste of the plastic they're made of. The others are the once-excellent machines that have been neglected. A machine kept in an attic or shed for decades will frequently have rusted itself into an ugly mess, or one that's been oiled regularly in a former life but never ever de-fluffed and cleaned. The time required to deep-clean those machines exceeds by a large margin their commercial value. Exceptions are made for very rare or unusual machines. But generally speaking, once they reach that stage they become organ donors. These are the machines that sacrifice themselves in order that others may live.
The Ugly. Oh the ugly. These are the ones that are technically superb and still have a lifetime of service to give. But nobody wants them because they're aesthetic monsters. There's a general rule of thumb that if you love a machine, you will look after it and use it. But the ugly ones are hard to love. I seem to be fairly alone in that I can see their inner beauty. I judge a machine on how well it works, and often they do so as well as the best and most beautiful machine. They fill me with an inner glow. So what happens to them?
They get adopted - by me, usually. Much as I'd like to retain a collection of stunning and rare machines, I can't because I have a house full of mongrels. Some examples of the little darlings that have ended up staying here:
Jones Popular
![]() |
| Jones Popular |
Anyone who has ever used a Jones will tell you what a thrilling machine it is to use. It's mechanical simplicity, it's accuracy and the overall 'feel' is just superb. I've never met a Guide Bridge-made Jones that I didn't like to sew with.
Mechanically identical to the Jones Family CS machines, this machine differs only in that the machine bed is extended downwards to form the base.
But it's the finish people dislike. It was available in two finishes, hammered enamel grey and a dull textured black.
After being on sale for six months, it became plain that this would become another adoption. It's too good to strip for parts (I will never willingly kill a perfectly good machine!) and sews so beautifully that it deserves to live. And live it does. It's my go-to machine for when the machine needs to go to the work, and for summer sewing sessions in the garden and will sometimes feature in my 'how to' videos.
Singer 328k
![]() |
| Singer 328k |
Quite possibly (and probably) one of the most useful sewing machines I have ever owned. Out of the box it's straight stitch and zigzag, but via interchangable cams it can do a whole range of decorative stitches. It will take two single needles for twin needle sewing, has a positionable needle and stitches button holes (and buttons!) superbly. When it arrived with me it was electrically unsafe, but I detest electric machines and so converted it for treadle use. It's become my main man for any work that requires more than just a straight stitch.
Again, a machine that was on sale forever and nobody wanted it. But secretly, I'm quite pleased about that.
PMZ M-100
![]() |
| PMZ M-100 |
This one fascinated me. Imported and badged by Chapman Sewing Machines in the mid-late 1960s, it's the model M-100 made at the Podolsk Sewing Machine factory. Podolsk is an industrial city about 35 miles south of Moscow.
The factory was built in the late 19th century by Singer and manufactured the usual range of Singer machines of the day. But then the Bolsheviks came along shortly followed by the birth of the Soviet state, and by the 1920s the factory was state owned.
On my travels I frequently come across the Soviet version of the Singer 15 and it's a good machine and quite common across most of Europe. One of these days I hope to find one in the UK and add it to my collection. But I was always curious as to what other machines they made.
Despite some being a bit "sniffy" about Soviet engineering, there's absolutely nothing about this machine that can be considered bad. The quality of the mechanicals is up there with some of the better machines in the world, and it's a dream to sew with. It was some time between acquiring and using the machine that I even uncovered it's origins.
But of course nobody wants it! The brown hammered enamel finish upsets the aesthetic sensibilities of most people, and so it was destined to stay on the shelf. Rather than subject it to the misery, I've adopted it. It will form the starting point of a collection of Soviet-era Eastern Bloc made sewing machines. Well if I'm to champion the down-trodden, I might as well go in up to my neck!
So there's three examples of what happens to the Ugly. There are others that I'll no doubt write about in the future.
Until next time, cheerio.
Sunday, 2 November 2014
We are moving...
I've had an Ebay shop for a while now, and it's fair to say that stock moves fairly quickly there. But Ebay's mindset and my own are at odds when it comes to customer interaction, and so I'm moving away. After a year looking around and trying different things, I've settled on a mixture of Preloved.co.uk and my own website.
Preloved seemingly has the opposite mindset to Ebay in that it positively encourages buyers and sellers to interact, to talk to each other, to communicate properly in the way that millions of years of evolution has enabled us to.
One of the things I absolutely aim to deliver to each and every customer is a level of service that seems to be all too uncommon these days. I'm talking about the level of customer service that our grand parent's talked about, a level of service that has gone the way of gas lights and tea dances.
One of the nicest things about taking my business philosophy back into my own hands and away from Ebay's total control is pricing; I can now enjoy a thoroughly good haggle with customers over the prices of my vintage and used stock (even though I try to be very competitive!) Additionally I've been able to reduce the prices of new items now that Ebay aren't taking an ever-increasing slice of my pie.
Don't get me wrong here, I'm not knocking Ebay. They have a philosophy backed-up with reams of policies and it's very much a case of 'take it or leave it'. But it's not how I operate. I wish them well, they have achieved great success. But as one of the little people that their CEO describes as "white noise", I think it's time to leave and start doing things properly.
You will find all regular stock new items like needles etc in my Needle Shop on this web site, and an RSS feed of my current Preloved listings in the Shop section. Visit Preloved at this link to see ALL my current treasure.
I look forward to serving you soon,
Graham
Thursday, 31 October 2013
Dusting-off Miss Jones
I was at a loose end today, so I gave Miss Jones a thorough seeing-too.
She's not been oiled-up in a very long time, but an hour spent cleaning-out her crevices and drizzling the golden nectar from my fine pointy thing, she sprung into action.
Still deciding whether to give her a facelift, or leave as-is. It would be a shame to remove all the scars of history, I reckon. She's made it this far from c1891~1892, so maybe I'll leave it alone.
One thing that struck me is how fiddly the needle is to set, and how easily it might be done incorrectly by someone not 'in the know'. So I set about making a short film on how to do it. Here is the fruits of my efforts:
Until next time, cheerio.
Wednesday, 2 October 2013
...like a record baby, right round round round...
No I'm not going to talk about Liverpudlian 80s pop sensation Dead Or Alive (although the MP3 is playing as I sit here typing - and it's New Wave, not pop!) but rather buttonholers.
I'm going to start with a question: who in their right mind isn't fascinated by these things? Can you imagine the day the chaps who invented them got tow work and thought "I have a cunning plan!" and set about making a gadget to enable a straight stitch machine to sew a tight zigzag forwards and backwards, really close together in two perfect lines? And do it in one go? Fabulous!
My favourite is the Singer buttonholer, particularly the later cream and red one (because it comes in a fabulous little plastic box!) closely followed by the YS Star (domestic). I can sit and watch them work all day long (and have done).
If you don't have one, get one. It's hours of fun and entertainment! I don't care where you get it from either, just so long as you do. Ebay is a good source (although prices there are creeping ever higher as sellers try to keep up with Ebay's ever-increasing charges). Or my shop, or Helen Howe's shop or your local charity shop... But do get one if you haven't already!
My little shop at No Touching
Helen Howe's sewing machine emporium
...and for three minutes high-camp, have a go of this YouTube video!
Until next time, cheerio.
Tuesday, 24 September 2013
Underdogs are go!
Tell me a particular sewing machine is crap, and I probably won't believe you. Show me why it's crap, and I might. It was like that with my Singer 328k, the model I learned to sew on. "It's noisy", they whined. "It's not as good as the <insert random Singer model number here>" they went on. Oh... bugger off. But of course, we know it's a fabulous workhorse, and just seems to do everything asked of it. It's all metal and probably one of the last of the good Singers (though I'll be extolling the vitues of the 348k in the coming weeks.)
But that's not what I want to talk about. I want to talk about the real underdogs, specifically the 285k. It got rotten reviews back in the early 60s; Noisy and vibrates when run fast (who the hell runs a machine fast? - what's the rush?) So of course I just had to have one. Five an a half quid later, and one is on the way. Watch this space...
Update: Horribly let-down by the vendor of said 285k on Ebay, so I it'll be a while before I get to blog about one of these little fellows. Gutted :-(
But that's not what I want to talk about. I want to talk about the real underdogs, specifically the 285k. It got rotten reviews back in the early 60s; Noisy and vibrates when run fast (who the hell runs a machine fast? - what's the rush?) So of course I just had to have one. Five an a half quid later, and one is on the way. Watch this space...
Update: Horribly let-down by the vendor of said 285k on Ebay, so I it'll be a while before I get to blog about one of these little fellows. Gutted :-(
Labels:
Singer 285k,
Singer 328k
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