A New Addition: Singer Model 66

When I sent her photos of my most recent on a whim acquisition, my mother asked, “Are you a collector?” Yes? At this point, yes. Introducing my new to me 1921 Singer Model 66. Stunning, I know. Sporting the classic red scroll or red eye decals and equipped with a motor, foot pedal, and work light; replete with the original oak carrying case that admittedly has seen better days.

I recently signed up for alerts to estate sales in my area. As I casually browsed a random sale, this machine popped up in the collection of photos for the sale and sang out its siren song. I simply couldn’t get it out of my head nor shake the idea that maybe, just maybe, it could be mine. I arranged my schedule to make an attempt to be at the sale as early as I could for the opening day.

One Man’s Trash

I’m a huge proponent of buying things second-hand and I adore many vintage items and antiques. Estate sales are perfect for finding those sorts of things, generally speaking. Despite this, I’ve never been to an estate sale before and didn’t have much of an idea about the culture around them. What should I bring? What should I wear? Do I need bags? Will there be a line? How busy do these things typically get? After this experience, I may be hooked.

Everything was breezy. It felt like going to an open house and especially in this case since the home was also for sale. When I arrived there were no lines though there was steady foot traffic in and out of the home. When I walked in, there it was greeting me in the foyer and to my delight there was no “sold” sticker anywhere in sight. The check out table was right across the way. I pointed to the machine and declared to the attendant, “That, I will have that. It’s mine and it’s sold.” She laughed instructing me to pull the price tag off, bring it over, and exchanged it for a purple “sold” sticker with my name on it. I was tickled with excitement.

I felt lucky the machine was still available after the sale had been open for a few hours and lucky that the price was exactly in the range of what I was willing to spend. I felt lucky that it seemed obviously well cared for despite its age: the decals are in good condition and there is no apparent rust. This must be what it feels like to strike gold.

A Very Lucky Problem

Now, here’s my problem. I do not need this machine. It is a completely frivolous purchase and I have no idea where I will keep it until I’m ready to refurbish it. I’m supposed to be clearing out my home and storage unit right now, not buying new things. But…when an opportunity like this one presents itself, exceptions can be made.

I already own a 1955 Singer Model 15 and a Brother Festival 451 (I suspect built in the late 1960s). Both have their own cabinets and are waiting to be refurbished. And now that I have three vintage/antique machines I suppose I now qualify as a collector. An aimless collector because I’m no lemming and have no goals here. I just like these beautiful machines that were built like tanks and designed to last lifetimes. They all have happened to me. I didn’t go looking for them but somehow they found me.

Up Next

Based on visual inspection, this particular Model 66 appears to be in good condition except the plug is obviously worn and needs to be replaced for safe operation. I’d like to refurbish it so that it can be used if I so choose, but it may spend most its life in my care as a cherished decorative item in my creative space.

But I am in the middle of a Winter cleaning, and am not prioritzing refurbishing this or my other machines, though I will share the details of my other machines in later posts. I didn’t sew a single stitch in February other than to repair a pair of pants because I’ve been focused on resting and resetting. I’ll be back to my fabric stash challenge [LINK] and sharing other exciting things with you very soon.

Truly,

Claire