I can measure my life in sewing machines. [‘Sewing’ (1913), Hans Heysen] I’ve had five in all, starting with my Nana’s old Singer; it was originally turned by hand, but my Mum had it converted to electricity when I was nine or so, and I was off. I loved the classic Singer shape and the ornate black-and-gold patterns and lettering, and it made me feel incredibly accomplished when I turned out Winnie-the-Pooh stuffed toys (McCall’s pattern 8087 (1968) now in the
Sewing machines have always been the pinnacle of domesticity in my world. I sewed for four children in a 1950s New Home making them clothes and all the things from stuffed critters to curtains to quilts. All set up on the upstairs landing of our old farm house. Nowadays, I have a room of my own that holds my most treasured Featherweight (born the same year I was -- Kizmet!), the New Home, Singer treadle, Singer 401, and my MIL Niche. I, too, was shamed at a quilting retreat many years ago by a well known designer who laughed at my wee Featherweight. I packed my darling up at lunch and we left. Who wants to associate with a machine snob? My ladies stay out waiting their assigned tasks. Each has a specialty and lines are never crossed. The Featherweight would NEVER sew on a binding and the treadle understands she is for the times when I need to slow down and ponder. I hope all mine will "see me out" as I have far more circles around the sun behind me than I will ever have ahead. The greatest joy has been my seven year old granddaughter has requested (actually demanded) that I bring a machine and teach her to make a quilt when I stay with her this fall. I'm confident my ladies will find a loving home with her. And the torch, er, machine, shall pass to the next generation.....
I had to respond to your lovely piece of writing. At nearly 70 years of age I have recently bought myself a brand new Singer sewing machine. I started sewing clothes for my Sindy doll beside my mother while she made her and my dresses from lovely fabrics bought in Kingston on Thames market. Then my grandmother passed on her old Singer machine to me as a student. Later I inherited my Mother in Law’s 1980’s Singer which lasted me until recently. It still worked but was getting really difficult! I gave it away and bought my first new machine- a joy! I could never imagine not having and using a sewing machine. They provide so much independence from the pressure to buy ‘stuff’. Thank you for such inspiration and interesting articles, my sewing friend and ‘soul sister’ recommended your blog.
An interesting post. It always catches my attention when sewing or a sewing machine is mentioned in novels etc., , I feel a connection to that person. I admit to also having several machines. As none of my friends sew and I have spent most of my life making excuses for my numerous machines and the fact I sew, as they just don't get it. But now my daughter having taken a degree in Fashion Design, understands my passion. She shares my machines and has two of her own. She sewed part of her collection on her handcrank Singer 99K.
Have you read the book "The Sewing Machine" by Natalie Fergie? It's the story of the life of a Singer machine from when it was made to the current day and how it has featured in the lives of the people who have owned it. Maybe not award-winning fiction but for a sewer, a lovely read.
Jane, I love how you take me down memory lane. I had that exact pattern but poor Eeyore never got finished *. I learned to sew on my Mom's slant needle singer with a knee control. *My own Singer I owned in my teen years caused so many tears I would never own another. My next machine was a Husqvarna - wedding present in Australia, the first computerized model, ran it into the ground running it on transformer back in the US , then back to Oz then to Blighty. Then made do with a Toyota which was pretty basic but got me by. Returning to the States I bought my, 'will see me out', all singing all dancing machine in 2011, Bernina 440 QA, my most precious possession. So many happy times. I've been sewing this summer at the picnic table at my campsite in Wisconsin. - Marguerite
Loved this article. I learned to sew on my mother's hand -turned sewing machine, on which she made her own dresses and clothes for me and my sister. As teenagers, she encouraged us to make our clothes, and later when I had my first house, I bought a Bernina 807, on which I made clothes, curtains, cushion covers, bedspreads. I now have a Janome, which has dozens of fancy stitches, but is also fairly reliable. I still sew mainly for myself and occasionally things for the house and of course repairs.
My heart went a flutter reading the paragraph, “I’ve always loved my sewing machines more than…”. You put into perspective feelings I thought were mine alone. My mother, a seamstress as her mother before her, unashamedly invests in this one luxury. When she is ready to upgrade, I am gifted the used Bernina and fall in love each time as we commit to work together through ups and downs, thick and thin. (It’s been 3 romances to date) It nearly breaks my heart when it’s time to pass my more than a friend on to my younger sister. Before saying goodbye, I take it in to the professionals for a spruce up, replace any missing accessories and take a moment. Finally, holding back tears I pass it on hoping it’s looking and feeling its best - not unlike those tough days I handed each of my precious children over to their new kindergarten teacher.
Fascinating. I especially love that you (and I) still use the word settee, which mysteriously seems to have otherwise disappeared from the English language.
Here in Bath we have a wonderful library of things and repair shop, Share and Repair, where you can borrow a sewing machine and if a repair is beyond your skill or imagination a wonderfully talented volunteer will do it for you. Next step should definitely be a drop-in place where tools and guidance are available to all - rather like the Men’s Shed (though in Bath we’ve dropped the gender specific and are calling it the Bath Shed).
'Settee' is what we always said when I was growing up so I find 'sofa' off - also a sofa is different, I think, posher and more upholstered! Interesting that it's what you also use
We ran a session at Oxford Repair Cafe to teach people to mend jeans - especially the all-too-often-seen "cyclists crotch" wear and tear holes. It was very popular, we had 2 men and about a dozen women. All went home with their jeans repaired - even the chap who had never threaded a needle before. I think we should repeat it!
I did hear a story of mother who was sewer taught her children to sew and use a sewing machine, including her son. He went off to university and took one of mother's sewing machines with him. He had a nice little sideline turning up jeans and doing minor repairs on fellow students and lecturers clothes. It kept him in beer money whilst he was at university.
If you have an old machine that needs repairing and you are told with much teeth sucking 'a Singer made in 1964? Ooh you can't get the parts' don't believe them. A 90 year old friend has such a machine, I go the necessary spare part of the internet in 30 seconds. The machine was repaired and she was delighted.
Thanks Jane Another fascinating and evocative article . I really enjoyed reading it.
We had a Singer Treadle machine at home - a great piece of furniture as well as a very effective sewing machine. It had a flip down drawer at the front for bobbins - my favourite aunt used to fill it with treats on her weekly visits.
In later years, in our sailing days, my husband bought me a heavy duty machine so that I could sew torn spinnakers and sail cloth. I will never forget the hot summer of 1976, sitting in a garage for weeks on end repairing tarpaulins and heaving them through the machine. I think I developed muscles almost as large as the sewing sailor in your article! I confess that I passed on the machine to a more appreciative owner as soon as I decently could!
Your journey with sewing machines sounds like me! My dad bought me my first Singer when I was 12 as he thought I's go into the "trade". That didn't happen but I sewed clothes, including jeans until I discovered quilting in the '70's. I have owned a Janome, a Juki, a Featherweight and 2 Berninas, the Bernias being my favorite. My son wasn't shy using my first Bernina to mend his soccer kit! Like you, my machines are sitting on a table ready to go. I do swear at them at times but they don't take offence. Love Yarnstorm!
I know I'm a week late, but have to put in a word for that little workhorse, the inexpensive Brother. After taking three good heavy machines (whose tensions were all shot from years of mending jeans and canvas) to a retired sewing machine man who would repair them and collect enough to fill a container to send to India, got a Brother for my mum, just to do hems and such. Well, what a trouper. $69 puny Canadian dollars at London Drugs, I sewed on and on for years — dresses, coats, quilts until one day, it just rattled itself into silence. Just bought on sale a quite costly 'basic' Janome with too many bells and whistles, none of which I use, had to invest in all new plastic bobbins, can't actually see where the needle is entering the fabric. I'd take any of my old friends over this.
My Singer treadle has followed me around the country for over 40 years. What I really loved about your post were the references to my favourite ever author, Dorothy Whipple - High Wages & The Priory. I just knew you’d be a Persephone Books reader too.
Someone at a Distance followed by High Wages. Then every other DW in any order. I go back to the comment by Jane when she is travelling to Manchester by train. Looking at the once beautiful Lancashire countryside she realises the cotton industrialists have ruined it; including my home town.
I really love this post! Someone once asked me what I would choose if I could only take one thing to a quiet retreat.
Of course for me the answer was my sewing machine!
There is a historical novel called “The Sewing Machine” by Natalie Fergie. It is set in the Singer factory in Glasgow. (That’s only the first years of the machine’s “life”, the story follows it through several owners!)
Oh, I really enjoyed this. I still own the sewing machine that I learned to sew on when I was five and it is definitely one of the things that I would try to save in the event of a house fire! Recently I bought a 1924 hand-crank Singer sewing machine and I was surprised by how strongly I felt about - the joy of using it was as powerful a thing as I've ever experienced. How wonderful sewing machines are!
Sewing machines have always been the pinnacle of domesticity in my world. I sewed for four children in a 1950s New Home making them clothes and all the things from stuffed critters to curtains to quilts. All set up on the upstairs landing of our old farm house. Nowadays, I have a room of my own that holds my most treasured Featherweight (born the same year I was -- Kizmet!), the New Home, Singer treadle, Singer 401, and my MIL Niche. I, too, was shamed at a quilting retreat many years ago by a well known designer who laughed at my wee Featherweight. I packed my darling up at lunch and we left. Who wants to associate with a machine snob? My ladies stay out waiting their assigned tasks. Each has a specialty and lines are never crossed. The Featherweight would NEVER sew on a binding and the treadle understands she is for the times when I need to slow down and ponder. I hope all mine will "see me out" as I have far more circles around the sun behind me than I will ever have ahead. The greatest joy has been my seven year old granddaughter has requested (actually demanded) that I bring a machine and teach her to make a quilt when I stay with her this fall. I'm confident my ladies will find a loving home with her. And the torch, er, machine, shall pass to the next generation.....
I had to respond to your lovely piece of writing. At nearly 70 years of age I have recently bought myself a brand new Singer sewing machine. I started sewing clothes for my Sindy doll beside my mother while she made her and my dresses from lovely fabrics bought in Kingston on Thames market. Then my grandmother passed on her old Singer machine to me as a student. Later I inherited my Mother in Law’s 1980’s Singer which lasted me until recently. It still worked but was getting really difficult! I gave it away and bought my first new machine- a joy! I could never imagine not having and using a sewing machine. They provide so much independence from the pressure to buy ‘stuff’. Thank you for such inspiration and interesting articles, my sewing friend and ‘soul sister’ recommended your blog.
An interesting post. It always catches my attention when sewing or a sewing machine is mentioned in novels etc., , I feel a connection to that person. I admit to also having several machines. As none of my friends sew and I have spent most of my life making excuses for my numerous machines and the fact I sew, as they just don't get it. But now my daughter having taken a degree in Fashion Design, understands my passion. She shares my machines and has two of her own. She sewed part of her collection on her handcrank Singer 99K.
Have you read the book "The Sewing Machine" by Natalie Fergie? It's the story of the life of a Singer machine from when it was made to the current day and how it has featured in the lives of the people who have owned it. Maybe not award-winning fiction but for a sewer, a lovely read.
I too enjoyed the book by Natalie Fergie! (She is on Instagram. )
There are sewing machines (and overlockers!) available in the Docklands library in Melbourne. Does that make us enlightened?
Yes
Jane, I love how you take me down memory lane. I had that exact pattern but poor Eeyore never got finished *. I learned to sew on my Mom's slant needle singer with a knee control. *My own Singer I owned in my teen years caused so many tears I would never own another. My next machine was a Husqvarna - wedding present in Australia, the first computerized model, ran it into the ground running it on transformer back in the US , then back to Oz then to Blighty. Then made do with a Toyota which was pretty basic but got me by. Returning to the States I bought my, 'will see me out', all singing all dancing machine in 2011, Bernina 440 QA, my most precious possession. So many happy times. I've been sewing this summer at the picnic table at my campsite in Wisconsin. - Marguerite
Loved this article. I learned to sew on my mother's hand -turned sewing machine, on which she made her own dresses and clothes for me and my sister. As teenagers, she encouraged us to make our clothes, and later when I had my first house, I bought a Bernina 807, on which I made clothes, curtains, cushion covers, bedspreads. I now have a Janome, which has dozens of fancy stitches, but is also fairly reliable. I still sew mainly for myself and occasionally things for the house and of course repairs.
My heart went a flutter reading the paragraph, “I’ve always loved my sewing machines more than…”. You put into perspective feelings I thought were mine alone. My mother, a seamstress as her mother before her, unashamedly invests in this one luxury. When she is ready to upgrade, I am gifted the used Bernina and fall in love each time as we commit to work together through ups and downs, thick and thin. (It’s been 3 romances to date) It nearly breaks my heart when it’s time to pass my more than a friend on to my younger sister. Before saying goodbye, I take it in to the professionals for a spruce up, replace any missing accessories and take a moment. Finally, holding back tears I pass it on hoping it’s looking and feeling its best - not unlike those tough days I handed each of my precious children over to their new kindergarten teacher.
I always think of Mrs Beaver in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe having to leave her sewing machine behind with great regret.
Fascinating. I especially love that you (and I) still use the word settee, which mysteriously seems to have otherwise disappeared from the English language.
Here in Bath we have a wonderful library of things and repair shop, Share and Repair, where you can borrow a sewing machine and if a repair is beyond your skill or imagination a wonderfully talented volunteer will do it for you. Next step should definitely be a drop-in place where tools and guidance are available to all - rather like the Men’s Shed (though in Bath we’ve dropped the gender specific and are calling it the Bath Shed).
'Settee' is what we always said when I was growing up so I find 'sofa' off - also a sofa is different, I think, posher and more upholstered! Interesting that it's what you also use
Hmm. Use it in my head rather than out loud mostly. No one much younger seems to have heard of a settee
I think that settees have longer exposed legs than a sofa, or a couch, or a chesterfield, which all seem to be upholstered to within 4" of the floor.
We ran a session at Oxford Repair Cafe to teach people to mend jeans - especially the all-too-often-seen "cyclists crotch" wear and tear holes. It was very popular, we had 2 men and about a dozen women. All went home with their jeans repaired - even the chap who had never threaded a needle before. I think we should repeat it!
I did hear a story of mother who was sewer taught her children to sew and use a sewing machine, including her son. He went off to university and took one of mother's sewing machines with him. He had a nice little sideline turning up jeans and doing minor repairs on fellow students and lecturers clothes. It kept him in beer money whilst he was at university.
If you have an old machine that needs repairing and you are told with much teeth sucking 'a Singer made in 1964? Ooh you can't get the parts' don't believe them. A 90 year old friend has such a machine, I go the necessary spare part of the internet in 30 seconds. The machine was repaired and she was delighted.
Thanks Jane Another fascinating and evocative article . I really enjoyed reading it.
We had a Singer Treadle machine at home - a great piece of furniture as well as a very effective sewing machine. It had a flip down drawer at the front for bobbins - my favourite aunt used to fill it with treats on her weekly visits.
In later years, in our sailing days, my husband bought me a heavy duty machine so that I could sew torn spinnakers and sail cloth. I will never forget the hot summer of 1976, sitting in a garage for weeks on end repairing tarpaulins and heaving them through the machine. I think I developed muscles almost as large as the sewing sailor in your article! I confess that I passed on the machine to a more appreciative owner as soon as I decently could!
Not the best way to spend the summer of 1976!
Your journey with sewing machines sounds like me! My dad bought me my first Singer when I was 12 as he thought I's go into the "trade". That didn't happen but I sewed clothes, including jeans until I discovered quilting in the '70's. I have owned a Janome, a Juki, a Featherweight and 2 Berninas, the Bernias being my favorite. My son wasn't shy using my first Bernina to mend his soccer kit! Like you, my machines are sitting on a table ready to go. I do swear at them at times but they don't take offence. Love Yarnstorm!
I know I'm a week late, but have to put in a word for that little workhorse, the inexpensive Brother. After taking three good heavy machines (whose tensions were all shot from years of mending jeans and canvas) to a retired sewing machine man who would repair them and collect enough to fill a container to send to India, got a Brother for my mum, just to do hems and such. Well, what a trouper. $69 puny Canadian dollars at London Drugs, I sewed on and on for years — dresses, coats, quilts until one day, it just rattled itself into silence. Just bought on sale a quite costly 'basic' Janome with too many bells and whistles, none of which I use, had to invest in all new plastic bobbins, can't actually see where the needle is entering the fabric. I'd take any of my old friends over this.
My Singer treadle has followed me around the country for over 40 years. What I really loved about your post were the references to my favourite ever author, Dorothy Whipple - High Wages & The Priory. I just knew you’d be a Persephone Books reader too.
So pleased you like High Wages! (I wrote the preface - and it just happens to be one of my all-time favourite novels.)
Someone at a Distance followed by High Wages. Then every other DW in any order. I go back to the comment by Jane when she is travelling to Manchester by train. Looking at the once beautiful Lancashire countryside she realises the cotton industrialists have ruined it; including my home town.
I really love this post! Someone once asked me what I would choose if I could only take one thing to a quiet retreat.
Of course for me the answer was my sewing machine!
There is a historical novel called “The Sewing Machine” by Natalie Fergie. It is set in the Singer factory in Glasgow. (That’s only the first years of the machine’s “life”, the story follows it through several owners!)
I highly recommend this novel!
Thanks for the recommendation!
Oh, I really enjoyed this. I still own the sewing machine that I learned to sew on when I was five and it is definitely one of the things that I would try to save in the event of a house fire! Recently I bought a 1924 hand-crank Singer sewing machine and I was surprised by how strongly I felt about - the joy of using it was as powerful a thing as I've ever experienced. How wonderful sewing machines are!