BREAKING -- Singer treadle switcheroo!

Friends, I know I lose a great many of you when I talk about vintage sewing machines.  Eyes glaze over, minds wander, thumbs twiddle.  We live in the time of Twitter and attention spans are short.

Hence I pepper my blog entries with video clips, movie memorabilia, and references to yesteryear's exciting stars of tomorrow Troy Donahue, Connie Stevens, and Keir Dullea -- something even knitters (and there are some) can enjoy.

And yet rarely has the topic of sewing machines been as dynamic and fertile here at MPB.  So much to tell!

First of all, I have a surprise for you -- close your eyes -- OK, now open them!





I picked up this little straight stitch walking foot at the informative website, Sew-Classic.  Jenny sells all kinds of useful parts and accessories for vintage sewing machines there, and she has written at great length about some of my favorite Singer models, including the 15-91.

So yesterday I am reading her 15-91 review, and she starts discussing wiring problems common to old 15-91 machines.  I'm like, OK, let's see if my 15-91 also has any of these potentially dangerous problems.  I know there's visible cracking on the wire leading to the light and I know that every once in a while the wire leading to the outlet needs to be moved two inches this way or that way before the machine turns on -- highly suggestive of a short -- but only once in a while!  I unscrew the three-prong terminal on the machine that the power cord plugs into to inspect the condition of the wires (connecting pedal, motor, and lamp) and almost immediately pieces of brittle wire insulation crack off.  This is not good.

Friends, I have decided that one of my first projects in the new year will be to rewire my 15-91.  I don't like shocks of any kind and I can't take risks with my life, not when I have a blog to write.  I may even learn to solder.

But let's get to the topic at hand: treadles.

Yesterday, despite debilitating back pain and with much assistance from Michael since I can't lift 35 lbs. right now, I replaced my Singer 66 treadle machine with the new vintage 15-90 that arrived on Monday.  It took about ten minutes.

Just one screw released the motor, another screw, the lamp.



I then removed the clutch release wheel and the clutch control washer (I'm learning so many new words.).



This is what you see.



Next I slid the hand wheel off and then the belt.



Now the machine looks like this.



Next we removed the machine from its wooden base by unscrewing the hinge screws on the inside base of the machine and sliding the machine off the hinges.  We did the same to the Singer 66 in the treadle table (first removing the hand wheel to free the leather treadle belt).

We placed the Singer 66 in the wooden base that the 15-90 had formerly occupied.  (I've ordered a shorter -- 13 3/4" -- belt through Sew-Classic so I can attach the motor to the 66; that's next.) 



We placed the 15-90 in the treadle table and attached the leather belt.  No belt adjustment necessary!





Beautiful stitches, no electricity needed, and I can regulate stitch length as well as reverse stitch the modern (circa 1949) way.





Friends, nothing is perfect in life but this comes close.  I am a happy man albeit one currently prone to lower back spasms.

For those still with us who have an interest in such things, much (much) better instructions for performing this treadle conversion can be found at the Treadleon.net website, here.  It's an invaluable resource for treadlers and those who love them.

Now who can teach me to solder?

Indulgent readers, we're nearly out of time.  I am so happy I can share my obsessions with you.  Michael and I, Freddy and Willy, and the surviving cast members of Madame X all wish you the happiest of happy holiday seasons.  I'll be back on the morrow, not to worry.

And what of you?  Drowning in a sea of wrapping paper, homemade toddler pajamas, and tote bags?

Do tell!


(Pass the Kleenex as Lana and Keir reduce us to wet noodles.)

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Why I Bother Sewing With a Treadle

Good morning, Mamie Van Doren fans and others!

Yesterday an anonymous commenter asked a very good question, one that many of you may have but feel embarrassed to ask.  To paraphrase...

Why bother with a treadle at all?  What's the fascination?

I thought about this question for a long time yesterday.  Why am I putting myself through the trials of treadling?  I could certainly make an equally-good-if-not-better-looking shirt faster on one of my many mechanical machines, like my precise, fully-electrified Singer 15-91.  It's not as old as my 1920 Singer 66 treadle, but it's still nearly 60.  Isn't that enough?

The short answer is no.

It might be easier to understand if I lay out the reasons why someone might opt to use a treadle.  If I've missed anything, please feel free to add to the list.

1.  It saves electricity.

This is undoubtedly true.  But a sewing machine isn't like an air conditioner that runs for hours on end.  How much electricity can a sewing machine use? You're just pushing that needle up and down and maybe keeping a small light bulb burning.  No, that's not my reason.

2.  I bought it, so I feel I have to use it.

This is a very good answer, but it doesn't really apply to me.  I own about a dozen sewing machines, most of which sit unused either in their hard plastic cases or atop my sewing machine table (the one in the kitchen that's basically an unused sewing machine display piece).  I don't feel compelled to use any of them for anything other than the occasional satin stitch or invisible zipper installation -- something that I find harder on an old straight stitch machine.

I could just as easily close up the treadle table and put a lamp on top and call it a day.

3.  It makes a beautiful stitch.

This is true, but it applies to all of my machines.  When thread tension is balanced, stitches always look great and I am frequently amazed by how often people talk about the fantastic stitch their expensive machine makes as if it were markedly different from the stitch you'd get from a cheap machine.  If you break down how a stitch is made, it isn't very complicated and the basics haven't changed in a hundred years.

4.  It's a way of honoring the past.

Now we're getting somewhere.  There's something soul-enriching about doing something the way people did it in the past -- especially when the results are of equal if not better quality.  Of course there are faster ways to do things.  There are lots of things people do the more labor-intensive way just because it feels better.  Many of us still write long hand even though writing at a computer is generally faster.  Many long-hand writers even insist on using a fountain pen!  They like the way it feels and it's a way of honoring the writing -- and thinking -- process.

Think of the Slow Food movement.  Of course it would be faster to use a microwave to cook the potatoes and you might not even detect the difference, but for the Slow Food aficionados, it's about the process of cooking, and microwaving doesn't fit in.

We got rid of our microwave years ago, btw.  It went out about the same time we gave away our television set.

5. It's an excellent way to hone your sewing skills.

Have you ever seen swimmers practice with strange rubber appendages attached to their hands and/or feet or wearing baggy nylon suits meant intentionally to create drag?   These make swimming more cumbersome; there's a larger surface to pull through the water.  The reason they train this way is because when they take these swim aids off, they feel like they're cutting through the water like a speedboat.

The same applies to a treadle sewing machine.  Right now since I am new to this machine it definitely makes the sewing process more challenging.  Not only do I have to power it myself, there's no numbered needle plate like I'm used to (and I have chosen not to label it myself with tape for the time being).  There's a screw edge that lines up with 1/2 inch and a hole exactly at the 5/8 inch point so there's really no need to mark anything, but this is all new to me.

All the topstitching involved in making a shirt -- on the collar, sleeve plackets, button plackets, yoke, etc. -- is hard enough to do precisely on a regular electric machine; peddling a treadle while you're focusing on turning corners and getting your stitching even makes it even more challenging.

But I know that when I return to any of my electric machines, topstitching will be that much easier.

BONUS REASON #1

It's fun.  It really is fun to treadle a sewing machine and in the scheme of things it's not hard.  It's not like learning to play the piano; it's more like learning to play a player piano.

BONUS REASON #2

It's super quiet, making a gentle clackety-clack.  Not that I'm waking any sleeping toddlers in the next room with my regular machines, but still.  It's a soothing sound.

And there you have it: seven great reasons to sew with a treadle.  Have I convinced you yet?

Here's my shirt as of this morning; almost done but not quite.





Moving right along, a reader pointed this store out to me -- it's the All Saints clothing chain, based in the UK and now even in NYC.







These pictures left me a little queasy -- like walking through the Museum of Natural History and seeing your own family members stuffed and on display instead of elephants and tigers (which is nauseating enough).

I know this is meant to be good cheeky fun and perhaps even a tribute to the sewing machine but I don't like it.

It makes me treasure my treadle even more.

Thoughts?

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Peter treadles a Western shirt

Friends, I have a soft spot for Western shirts.  I don't know why.  It's not like I look so great in them and it's a slippery slope from chic urban cowboy to looking like you should be singing "Tumbling Tumbleweeds" around a Montana campfire.

But I wanted to take on my first treadle project, and I decided a Western shirt -- without too much fancy stuff like contrasting fabric and piping -- would be the way to go.  Since I purchased my 1920 Singer 66 treadle a few weeks ago I've been practicing on it a lot.  On eBay last week, someone was selling some old Singer notions and Singer 66 accessories cheap, and I picked up these extra feet (which you'll notice attach at the back, not the side). They can be hard to find and expensive.



BTW, the old bobbin tire, which I'd like to replace, is hard as petrified wood.  How do I get this off -- electric drill?



The old bobbins included in the package were full of ancient silk, which unwound produced this -- pretty, right?



But back to the shirt.

Here's the pattern I decided to use.  I made this shirt with it last fall, which ultimately felt a little too busy.



The pattern is from 1978 but no matter, Western shirts don't change much from decade to decade.

My fabric is a black-raspberry-colored cotton shirting I picked up at my favorite fabric dive, H&M on 35th St. for $2/yd.



The pattern has this cool bat-shaped back yoke:



Here's the fabric cut:



I stay stitch the edge...



I turn the edges under along the stitch line (I use a little water soluble white glue to hold down the points).



Ta da!



Here's as far as I've gotten:





I won't lie: treadling is challenging.  It's sort of like playing the bagpipes (kudos to Michael for the metaphor) -- you're trying to do two things at once and it's a little scary, especially when you're topstitching.  I'm a perfectionist and my topstitching results aren't quite up to my usual standards but no matter -- it's good enough and I'll improve with time.

I'm also not accustomed to sewing on a flat table surface.  I like it, but it's different.



Today I'd like to get as far as I can with my shirt, maybe even finish it if possible. I even bought pearl snap fasteners!

And that's the news here at Treadle Central.

What's going on in your corner of the world?

Happy Friday, everybody!

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"Let Them Eat Cake" + Treadle Update

Readers, are we sheeple?  I thought I'd seen everything in SewBloggingLand until I read this.

I mean, maybe I flash a little too much skin from time to time to keep your interest, but I have never stooped to dessert porn.  Sure, it'd be tempting to blow off sewing entirely this Labor Day weekend and just post gorgeous photographs of luscious fruit pies...

..scrumptious buttery confections...

..and wholesome holiday treats.

But I'm too busy performing sewing-related activities!

I have my Singer treadle to clean...



Every time I take a soft rag to it, usually with a little plain old spit, I get this -- eww!



But the results are stunning.



I've been practicing my treadle technique.  One foot on the back, one foot on the front seems to work much better than both feet dead center.  Thanks for the tips, treadlers.

Here's a brief video update:



BTW, according to the Singer website, my machine was manufactured on April 28, 1920.  Ninety years young!

Meanwhile, I've found the perfect thread for my Burda dress project:



I've laundered the Liberty fabric and ironed it:



I bought cord yesterday and started practicing making button loops.  Not pretty. 



Things are happening!

I get so many questions about where I store all my sewing machines in a New York apartment that, while larger than a studio, isn't exactly the set from Family Affair either.

In brief:

Here, in one corner of my living room, sit my 15-91, my Brother 1034D serger (under plastic), and my ailing Huskylock serger that now serves solely as a thread stand:



Diagonally opposite you'll find my Singer 66 treadle:



In the foyer, to the uneducated eye a contemporary art installation, sits my White Fair Lady:



As we round the corner and enter the kitchen, against one wall we find my Kenmore (in blue denim) and my Pfaff 139.  As you can see, I'm quite the housekeeper!



Turn 180 degrees, look down, and -- ta da! -- my Elna Grasshopper and Singer Genie.  Don't trip!



Now look up: my Viking, my Brother (found in the trash), my Necchi, and my Singer Spartan.  And a pile of other stuff.



Now on to the bedroom...

My lovely Necchi Lydia.  You'd never know to look at her that she has a cracked camshaft, would you?



And there you have it: twelve sewing machines and two sergers, each in its respective place.  It's all about efficient use of space, people.

In conclusion, friends, I'm keeping busy and I hope you are too.

A snack before we part...?  My treat!

Happy Sunday, everybody, and enjoy the holiday!

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