The Ditching Begins (again) + Which Sewing Machine Goes?

Greetings, born-again declutterers!

We are starting the new year right here at MPB, digging through the detritus and dumping, dumping, DUMPING.  As you know, my energy for these kinds of purges isn't always there, so when it is, the best bet is to ride if for all it's worth.

I've made good progress so far and it's only Tuesday.  Remember when I set up my stereo system (after seven years without it) only I lacked audio speakers?  Well, a few weeks later I found these mini Advent speakers in the trash. They're not great but were good enough for the Burt Bacharach/Hal David Lost Horizon soundtrack I listened to endlessly.



But I learned something, readers, and I think this is an excellent exercise in ditching.  I had originally intended on selling (or donating) my stereo receiver and turntable, then decided against it.  So I set it up and listened to my records again; I bought a few new used ones at the Salvation Army.  And guess what: after about a week, I had totally stopped using it.

I have learned that for better or for worse, I am not going back to my records.  So now I can get rid of my stereo components without fear of regret.  Because, friends, isn't that the fear around decluttering --  that we'll ditch something and later wish we hadn't?

Meanwhile, for the last five years or so, we've had our computer printer in the bedroom, atop this broken cart.  Today, I moved the small Ikea table that used to sit in the corner of the living room (and supported the stereo components) into the bedroom, where it now serves as a printer stand/night table.  The cart with the broken wheel has been ditched.  Good riddance to broken furniture!





Now that the dogs are no longer sleeping in bed with us, we've moved the carpeted dog stairs into the living room, so the dogs can climb up onto the air blower (which blows hot(ish) air in winter cool(ish) air in summer) in front of the big window.  I wanted to sell those stairs (a flea market find), but Michael thinks we should hold onto them.  Alas, some compromises must be made.

I've already posted a few furniture items on Craigslist and am now facing the dilemma of which sewing machine(s) to sell.  I'm deciding between two machines in tables: the Kenmore 158.141, and the Pfaff 30.  They are both wonderful machines -- the Pfaff a powerhouse vintage straight stitcher, and the Kenmore a 1.3 amp zigzagger.  I've thought about listing them both on Craigslist and letting go of whichever one sells first -- or both!





They are very different machines.  The Pfaff is beautifully engineered and has a knee pedal, which I love, but the Kenmore is also great, and in its way, more versatile.  Both could be considered workhorses.  I'd keep them if space weren't an issue, but neither does anything that other machines I own can't do -- a concept shared by an MPB commenter a long time ago that makes a lot of sense.  The Pfaff doesn't do anything my Singer 15-91 and 201 can't do, and the Kenmore 158.141 is essentially a larger and more powerful 158.1040.

Which would you part with?

In other news, friends, I am planning a very fun adventure for those who care to join me later this month -- it's a secret for now but it involves fabric shopping in....New Jersey!   More to come so stay tuned!  (I'll also shortly be telling you about my near-psychedelic trips on herbal sleep aid Valerian.)

In closing, have you started your 2012 ditching yet?  What's your rule about keeping broken things -- or don't you have broken things where you live?  (Be honest!)

Have a great day, everybody!

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A Sewing Machine as a Gift -- Yea or Nay?

Readers, I was both excited and troubled by a feature I saw in the most recent (January 2012) issue of Consumer Reports magazine.  Their annual "25 Great Gifts" list included -- are you sitting down? -- a sewing machine!

Actually three sewing machines (presumably you'd choose only one):  The Brother Innov-is 40, Pfaff Select 3.0, and the Bernina Activa 230PE. 



Now, I am unqualified to comment on the quality of these machines, having never seen any of them in person, let alone sewed on one.  I'm thrilled that a sewing machine made the cut as I think it reflects on a renewed interest in home sewing.  But the idea of purchasing a sewing machine as a gift (i.e., for somebody else) worries me.

And don't you love how Consumer Reports lists the BMW sports car (below right), which costs $49,525 as "for someone super special" as opposed to "from someone very rich," as if the cost of a gift reflects how much we value the recipient -- precisely what Madison Avenue tries to guilt us into thinking every year.   In this rotten economy it seems particularly tone-deaf.



I have seen so many threads on the Pattern Review message boards where someone (usually the husband of a sewer) is requesting advice on what sewing machine or serger to purchase for his wife.  And almost invariably the responses come in four-to-one that if they really want their wife to have the machine of her dreams, they should purchase a gift certificate from a reputable sewing machine dealer and let her choose the machine herself.

I am of the same opinion though I'm generally opposed to the idea of purchasing new things (other than socks, knit briefs and undershirts), given that most the Western world, and certainly the United States, is awash in perfectly good second-hand stuff.  And while the Bernina Activa is probably a wonderful machine, spending $1350 for a sewing machine seems like a crime whose victim is the customer.  I'm open to having my mind changed, of course, but come on, that's a lot of money.  Personally, I'd rather have the cash.  (In fact, I recently read on some blog that the way to tell if something is worth (to you) what you're spending on it, is to ask yourself if you had the choice between receiving the money or the item, which would you choose?  Think about it.  Would you rather have someone give you $1000 or get, say, a flat-screen TV?)

Friends, I open the floor to you (not literally; I'd hate to have you drop into a pool of hungry crocodiles).

1) Do you think you can ever buy a sewing machine -- wait, let me restate that: do you think you should ever buy someone else a sewing machine?  Unless, of course, you know exactly what model they want and it can be returned (if need be), and they can find support nearby for the machine should they need it?

2) Have you ever received a sewing machine as a gift? If so, were you happy with the choice made on your behalf or would you have preferred another? (Be honest!)

3) Do you agree that buying a sewing machine for someone else is not equivalent to purchasing them a DVD player or a set of knives (then again, for the serious cook, perhaps knives aren't such a good idea either)?

A sewing machine as a gift (for Christmas or any other time) -- Yea or Nay?

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Friday Featherweight Fun-Fest!

Friends, I recognize that this week, MPB has been a little -- how shall I put this?  -- sewing-machine-heavy.  Please believe that I have new projects in the pipeline and I will return to sewing soon.

A brief recap:  If you've been following the daily drama, you know that I bought a vintage Viking 6020 on eBay on October 6th, when my other vintage Viking, a 3240 -- seized up on me all of a sudden and I didn't think I could do anything to fix it.  Well, the 6020 arrived damaged, having been dreadfully packed, and I requested a full refund from the eBay seller.





In the meantime, however, I succeeded in lubricating my 3240 and returning it to full functionality, which meant that I didn't need the 6020 in the first place.  (Whether I ever really needed either machine is not a topic we will be discussing today, thank you very much.)

In the meantime, I successfully bid on a Kenmore 158.1040, a vintage 3/4-size machine, not to be confused with a Frister & Rossmann Cub 4.  That one joined the family on Tuesday, and though it needed considerable oiling, it's a keeper, and, considering it's a zigzagger, actually has an excellent straight stitch, due to its separate straight-stitch plate and excellent straight stitch presser foot.  (I have since learned that any Kenmore low shank zigzagger can use a vintage Singer straight stitch presser foot, but I digress...)



Meanwhile, despondent over my damaged Viking 6020 and not completely lucid, I bid on and won another Singer Featherweight on eBay last Saturday night.  I took a chance with this machine, friends.  The bidding started high-ish (at $125 -- a bad selling strategy for a highly coveted item, imo) but it received a mere three bids and I got it for about $140.  The photos of the machine were poor and the description briefer than brief -- basically, that what you (can hardly) see is what you get.  Nevertheless, the seller had 100% positive feedback (as did the seller of my Viking...) and was located nearby, so the shipping was low.

Well, the Featherweight arrived yesterday, and guess what -- it's fabulous!  This is the first and only time that an eBay machine has sewn perfectly right out of the box, requiring no oiling, no adjusting, no belt or wire replacement, nothing.  Amazing.

It's positively lustrous and dates from 1948.



My first Featherweight -- which I love today, of course -- arrived last March with a host of problems.  Yards of what looked like fishing wire were wrapped around the shaft behind the shuttle.  Even after removing it, thread kept getting snagged under the feed dogs.  Ancient thread, moreover, was tangled up in the handwheel.





A screw was missing in the bobbin case and I had to replace it.  But it still wasn't sewing right.  With Rain's help, we figured out the machine needed a new hook assembly -- the old hook had burrs on it which Rain didn't have the tools to smooth down -- and I was able to find a vintage one for sale on eBay.



All told, and not counting labor (which didn't cost me anything, but still), that Featherweight ended up costing me $100+ more than my new one.  You may also recall that its carrying case was so moldy it made me sneeze every time I opened it.  Achoo!



Many weeks later, I finally got this Singer working right, and it has performed flawlessly ever since.  That's why I wanted another one, plus it seemed like a good place to park some cash till interest rates go up.

My first Featherweight came with no accessories except a buttonholer, which I didn't need, but was still nice to get.



This second Featherweight came with a whole host of accessories and a vintage Singer oil can.





And did I mention that the case -- which has a lovely leather handle and just a few minor scuffs -- smells...well, OK, we're not talking Chanel No. 5, but it doesn't smell moldy in the least.  Just a little like gun cleaner.  Refreshing!



As I mentioned, it stitches beautifully.  I feel very lucky.





Now, many of you are no doubt wondering what is to become of the damaged Viking 6020, for which I have indeed received a full refund after persistent pestering.  You're probably thinking, Wouldn't Peter -- given his familiarity with vintage Vikings, success with loosening up stuck machines, willingness to wrap exposed wires with electrical tape, and overall cheapness -- try to get that machine running? 

Friends, upon my attorneys' advice, I  shall refrain from answering that question.  Let's just say I did only what you would have done, and leave it at that.

In closing, I will stop talking about sewing machines now.  Oh, one more thing:  a while back, I was kvetching about the straight stitch on my Kenmore 158.141 zigzagger, and MPB reader Wingamajig reminded me that my machine has "a flipping straight-stitch/zigzag plate."  Oh, joy!  I flipped the plate, and after attaching an old Singer straight stitch presser foot, it too is now an excellent straight stitcher.  My $20 flea market workhorse and I are back together again!  Now if only I could loosen the clutch from the handwheel -- a problem I have with both Kenmores, actually.





And that, as they say, is that!

Have a great day, everybody, and remember: Friends don't let friends bid on eBay in the middle of the night.

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Send in the Clones

So here I am, all excited about my new Kenmore 158.1040 and someone tries to rain on my parade.  The audacity!

A certain Curious Kiwi leaves a comment yesterday telling me that my newly-acquired, vintage, 3/4-size zigzagger is just like her mother's old Globe Cub 3, a machine that -- she doesn't say it but I can read between the lines -- is even more adorable than my 158.1040.

Why, if I weren't a gentleman....!

Here is my Kenmore 158.1040, admittedly a little drab, color-wise:

And here's whats-her-name's Mum's creamsicle-colored Globe Cub 3, which was sold in the Australian and New Zealand markets.  (Even her photograph is better -- rats!)



To make matters worse, after doing a little online research -- the only kind I do -- I discovered that this little Jaguar/Maruzen-made Japanese machine was also sold in the UK as the Frister & Rossmann Cub, which was cuter still, in a Terence Conran sort of way.  By this point, I am choking on my own bile.





Not only that, but on eBay right now, you can buy all of these adorable little Cubs!  (Please remember that electrical currents will differ depending on your location.)





Friends, is it me, or is something wrong here?

Now, I've always known that sewing machine models were often made in the same factories using the same (or nearly same) design, and then custom badged by whichever company was selling them.   In fact, you can read a very interesting article here about who made which machines for Sears, to be sold under the Kenmore name.  This still goes on, of course.

Kenmore 19112:



Janome 11554:



As with so many consumer products, over decades, corporate consolidation takes place (think General Motors) till there are very few independent manufacturers remaining.  Did you know that Singer is now owned by the same (belch) private equity firm as Pfaff and Husqvarna Viking?  Can anyone say Occupy Wall Street?

Even back in the day, Singer branded the same machines differently for different markets.  Remember that Seventies kitsch phenomenon, the Singer Genie?



She was sold in the UK as the Singer Starlet, don't ask me why.



At some point, they even changed her flower-power decals to something more suggestive of shag rugs, soft lights, and Barry White records.



And let's not forget the Mon Ami and Mon Ami II:





Readers, if your head isn't spinning already, I must briefly mention the Post-War Japanese clone phenomenon.  This is where America started losing its industrial edge, which is in no way to disparage our friends in the Land of the Rising Sun.

Here's a genuine Singer 15 model (15-88, 15-89, 15-90, and 15-91):



And here are some Japanese clones -- some of which were, apparently, better constructed and engineered than the Singer originals!













These clones still show up at flea markets and thrift stores all the time and can be a great bargain if you're looking for a vintage straight stitch machine.  They use Singer low-shank feet and standard Class 15 bobbins, too.

You can read more about Japanese clone machines over at Jenny's Sew-Classic blog and at the Vintage Sewing Machines blog.  It's a fascinating topic.  You can view (many) more clone pics here.

In closing, readers, how are you feeling at this point?  Bored?  Confused?  Weepy with nostalgia?  Have you ever sewn on a Japanese clone?  What was it like?  Do you love clones, if only for the pastel colors?

Did you always know that Sears -- and so many other retailers -- just stuck a badge on machines manufactured elsewhere and called them their own? 

Finally, the truth, please:  Is the Globe Cub 3 just a little bit cuter than the Kenmore 158.1040?

WAAAAAH!!!

Happy Thursday, everybody!

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Happiness is a New Sewing Machine

Wait, have I used that title before?

Readers, there are two kinds of sewing machine purchases: the kind where the thing you're most excited about is the price, and the kind where the thing you're most excited about is the machine.  In my experience, one is rarely equally excited about both.

I am delighted to announce that my new Kenmore 158.1040 is the second sort of sewing machine purchase.  I am majorly into this machine.



This won't be a real review, but rather a list of early impressions, like you'd get after a first date.  Maybe I'll make a video later when I know the machine a little better. 

To be honest, we got off to a rocky start.  The machine was supposed to arrive on Monday, but it never did.  The USPS website said that an attempt at delivery had been made and a notice left behind.  Friends, I have very good reason to suspect that neither is true -- I think the delivery person was too something to carry the box to my apartment; this has happened to me before.  Rather than schedule a second attempt, I walked to the post office, with the tracking number and personal identification, and picked it up myself. 

Happily, this machine was very well boxed (in contrast to the Viking 6020) and -- how clever -- the seller thought to write fragile on the side of the brown paper wrapping the box.  Michael claims that this is nothing more than an invitation to USPS employees to fling it even harder against the floor.  I am more trusting.

Obvious care had been taken to make sure the machine -- which came in its hard plastic carrying case -- was securely boxed.





This machine fits very tightly in its rose-embossed case (see top pic) -- a nice design if a little gendered.  Obviously you're not going to find a Black & Decker drill inside.



The machine itself looked nearly pristine, with no discoloration on the plastic accessory box (common), and I have reason to believe it was hardly ever used.

Original padded packaging still lines the accessories case:



Many accessories still wrapped in plastic:



Original needles included:



The 158.1040 needed a lot of oiling.  It ran from the get-go, but the belt would slip and the motor strained a bit.  I knew that a barely-used machine was unlikely to have a worn-out (.8 amp) motor.

Thankfully, it's easy to get inside this machine, and the instruction booklet came with it and includes detailed instructions on oiling.   The oil did the trick: no more straining or slipping.





So, how does it sew?  Very nicely.

It's not as powerful as my 158.141, but it doesn't have a 1.2 amp motor either.  Like most of the other 158 Kenmores, this one was built by Maruzen/Jaguar in Japan.  The 158's (which refers to the first three numbers in the serial number) are highly coveted machines and solid metal.



Now, you know I think that zigzaggers are a bit of a fad, albeit a sixty-year-old one, but if I had to own one zigzagger that wasn't a Viking, I think I would choose this one.  The 158.1040 includes not only a special straight-stitch plate, moreover, it also includes a straight stitch foot that is virtually identical to the straight stitch foot on a straight stitch machine, as opposed to one of those wide straight-stitch feet one finds everywhere these days.

If the right "toe" is just as wide as the left, it is virtually worthless, imo.

This 3/4 machine is not exactly light (I'm guessing about 14 lbs) and not that small either.  It has only about 1" less harp space than a Singer 15-91.





There's a handy extension table at one end, and the accessories tray folds out to provide a wider sewing surface in front.  Clever, no?



In closing, friends, it has been a long time since a new sewing machine actually made me want to sew something, but My Kenmore 158.1040 is doing just that.  It may be time to start that next project. 



I think we're going to be very close, my little-if-not-quite-a-Featherweight Kenmore and I.   Could this be love?

More pics of the 158.1040 here.

Have a great day, everybody!

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