Well, kind readers, you'd better sit down for this one. I had to, and Dusty D was shellshocked for quite some time after this mysterious object arrived at her house today.
A kind, thoughtful, and unbelievably generous friend who works as a museum exhibit preparator dropped this by today. As a gift. For no reason other than the goodness of his heart. Unlock the bentwood case with its tiny key, take the case off, and what do you see inside?
How about a pristine antique Singer sewing machine? How about--not ONLY a breathtakingly beautiful old jewel, with elaborate gold scroll-painting and a clean, glossy body but...
...one that started up and worked beautifully the moment it was plugged into the wall?
That's right. Dusty D's friend plugged this exquisite old treasure into a foot pedal, and into the wall...and...started sewing on a little piece of blue cloth.
This was the point when Dusty D had to sit down. I stared at my friend who was nonchalantly making a straight stitch on the cloth, and blinked a few times. I think.
You can see the lovely gilt lettering and decoration here, and the evocative way that the scrollwork is worn in places on the work surface.
Whose fingers wore off the scrollwork? What were they making? Clothes for their family? What women before me sat down at this treasure and made useful things?
Here you can see the dear little motor powering the machine, at top right next to the silver flywheel. Dusty D was told that this basic model of this sewing machine was made and then some were fitted for treadle power and others, like this one, for electric power. So the motor is original and not a later addition, as is sometimes seen on antique sewing machines.
On the head of the machine is this special silver-colored plate etched with lovely twining leaves and flowers.
Every part of this creation was made with a most skilled craftsman's care as to beauty and grace in addition to lasting functionality. I was agog to see the combined delicacy, toughness, and meticulous accuracy of the machined parts. My dad is a machinist, and has made many model steam engines among countless other projects. I know he would admire this elegant machine.
The sewing machine came complete not only with its original locking bentwood case but also this elegant, beautiful little accessories box.
It is so cleverly and skillfully made, and unfolds into a four-part container holding all the attachments. I admired the care that went into orienting the woodgrain so that it made a four-way ray when the box is closed. Carefully-cut dovetails hold the pieces together. All by itself, this little box is a gorgeous antique.
Dusty D looked up the model number and learned that this treasure is from 1923. Eighty-six years old...and running perfectly.
Dusty D feels awed, humbled, and enormously enriched to become the next person in line to preserve this unbelievable jewel for those after me. She is so grateful to her generous and amazingly skilled friend, who restored this old grand-dame to its sparkling condition.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Gift From the Blue: 1923 Working Singer Sewing Machine
Click to read more about:
1920-1930
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sewing machine
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singer
4 comments :
I too had an incredible sewing machine experience. I was able to freecycle a White treadle machine from the turn of the century. Perfectly sustainable -- it works well by foot power. It too was graceful and beautiful. My partner & I took it apart and cleaned it, then proceeded to sew. Wow. The best part was that a month or so later, at Bowerbird, I found the exact machine in even better condition, for $10. A full set of replacement parts -- total outlay: $10 and a few tablespoons of gasoline.
(I just have to say it.) They don't make 'em like that anymore.
Yes! You were the first person Dusty D thought of when this gem came my way! And I have to say, given my past envy of your all-time BEST freecycle JACKPOT, that my heart was eased.
If you'd like me to post a pic of it, I can start a series called something like "The Bits of History In My House" or the like. That would be so neat, to see what cool things the people in this history-loving town have in their homes.
My Mum had one of these in a big cabinet that opened to reveal the treadle. She didn't enjoy sewing but I can still remember the sound it made as she worked away.
Hi Scriptor Senex--oh, how cool, I've seen those types of machines. I love the non-electrified nature of old treadle machines--come the apocalypse, one would be the best-dressed survivor in town.
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