Sewing Machine Sundays: Bernina Record 730

Examining the Bernina Record 730 in the seller's garage, and watching him test it out. I had initially been interested in the other machine just out of the frame, a Bernina Minimatic 807, but he quickly convinced me that this was in far better condition and a better deal overall.

I have been using this almost daily since I brought it home almost two months ago, and it has lived up to its billing. Made in Switzerland circa 1969, the Record 730 was the top-of-the-line Bernina sewing machine and came with lots of fancy features - 20 embroidery stitches, automatic buttonholes, option of dropping feed dogs - that I have yet to use.

The free-arm is supplemented by a removable extension table for sewing larger surfaces - I use it like this most of the time. Not pictured are the foot pedal, original manual, and lots of presser feet and extra bobbins that came with the machine.

Aesthetically, I find it really quite nice to look at. A bit intimidating at first, of course, until you figure out what all the different knobs do and get used to it. Now we are good friends. The rounded curves remind me of the design aesthetic of typewriters from the same period (think curvy Hermes 3000) and in fact this is in sharp contrast to its boxier successors, the Bernina Record 830 or Bernina Record 930.

This machine has spoilt me for any others, really. It has worked so wonderfully well "out of the box" that I thought surely others must be the same and have tried my luck on a few more vintage machines, with mediocre results.

Part of it is surely that I bought it from a seller who has lots of experience with sewing machines and made sure this was in fantastic form - he was so confident, in fact, that he emailed me thirty days after the sale asking if I wanted to return it and get my money back. Not a chance!

A look under the hood - there is a lot of impressive engineering to see here, and the nice part is that virtually all of it is solid, durable metal. The red dots mark the oiling holes, and the stack of cams in the middle are for the different embroidery stitches.

I gave them a try when I first brought the machine home - an advanced typing sample, if you will. Works beautifully. Haven't had a chance to use them in an actual project yet, but perhaps one day.

And here you may be asking yourself - why the recent obsession with sewing machines, Adwoa? Are you actually making anything? Well, yes. There was that couch cover, of course, and the matching skirt. But, this weekend, when I headed off to Zurich for a wedding, I had the perfect opportunity to debut a dress I had recently completed using wax print fabric I brought back from Accra in April and working from a sewing pattern designed by a young Canadian lady:

Voila! Sewed entirely on my fabulous Bernina Record 730.


(Typecast courtesy of Scheidegger Princess-Matic)

Sewing Machine Sundays: Singer Featherweight 222K

The very well-maintained case, always a good sign.

Neatly nestled in the box, with the accessories and other ephemera. I have to say that despite the name "Featherweight", and all those ads showing finely-clad ladies hefting one up in the palms of their hands, I did not find this all that light - well, definitely not in comparison with a portable typewriter. It was relatively comfortable to carry, and we did not have too far to walk, but I was still happy to set it down when we got home!

And... here she is. I would rate the condition at 8.5 out of a possible 10; the seller billed it as "new", "sparingly used", etc, and it shows. There are a few scratches, one small crack near the light, but everything is generally clean and free of corrosion.

A close-up of the badge. From the serial number, EJ267332, it would appear this was manufactured sometime in November 1953.

The extras in the case included original Singer Sewing Machine Oil and Motor Lubricant, a Singer-branded seam ripper, instruction manuals (in French) for both the 222K and its earlier counterpart the 221K, and lots of attachments and accessories as well as a Singer ad.

Spare bobbins, keys for the case, and special feet - ruffler, hemmer, edge-stitcher, and a few others I'm still figuring out. No zipper foot or buttonhole attachment though, I'll have to source those later if I decide I want them.

The other side of the Singer 221 ad that came in the box.

Foot controller, box with attachments, and a brown paper bag that seems to date from Singer's centennial year of 1951... perhaps the owner bought something in the singer store and it was packaged in this bag?

Swiss-made! A zigzag attachment, which greatly increases the versatility of this otherwise straight-stitch machine. I look forward to figuring it out, but I'm sure it'll take me a while to get the hang of it. Just look:

Quite the contraption, indeed. Those gear-like discs are cams that enable one to change the zigzag pattern.

I should study the manual carefully - fortunately, it helps that I have also downloaded the English version.

The nice thing about having a Singer Featherweight (and partly what motivated me to seek one out) is that there is an absolute wealth of information available about how it works, how to maintain and troubleshoot, and how to source spare parts. I could spend days immersed in this stuff... and I probably will, too :)

This evening, we lubricated it and ran it for a while with some test fabric - it works. I have to sort out the lower (bobbin) thread tension, and the motor emits an initial puff of smoke that is a bit worrying (but from what I have read, not unusual for a machine that has been sitting for years). It is supposed to clear up with a bit of use, so I'll hope for that. For someone who has been decidedly mediocre at typewriter repair, I am even more helpless when wiring is thrown into the mix, so I'll just knock on wood and proceed with caution. Whatever happens, though, I still think it was a fairly good deal - especially with all the ephemera and extras - and I am thoroughly pleased to welcome it to my small sewing machine collection.

Friday Finds: Vide-Grenier Sewing Machines & Typewriter Listings

Now it is the turn of the sewing machines that I photographed during the vide-greniers. There were a few - not as many as I expected, but they definitely made a strong showing. There are some days I feel better about shopping at vide-greniers than the flea market: there's more of an emotional connection when buying from the original owner than from some random chap who scored a heap of stuff at an estate sale and refuses to bargain or entertain offers. Not that I'm bitter or anything; I guess they have to make a living somehow. Anyway:

Peter's last post showed an Elna Supermatic that he spotted in a Zurich thrift store, and as I commented, that must have been a very popular model in the '50s because there is no shortage of them in Geneva! To put this into some context, here is an ad for the Supermatic back when it was made:

Isn't it lovely? I saw a few others:

I rather like the light green color here.

This beige color looks to be the same one in this ad:

Elna Supermatics seem plentiful in Geneva and I have read good things about them, but for space reasons I shall not be bringing one home just yet. They probably weigh a ton, too. I already have one heavyweight machine (I know, I know, post on it upcoming) and I don't foresee needing another.

The 2nd generation of Elna Supermatics was also sighted:

But lest you think Geneva is an all-Elna town (which wouldn't be surprising as their factory was here), there were a few other brands represented too:

Another Swissie - this time a Bernina 125. Nice and portable - their Grasshopper equivalent, I would imagine. I was tempted to ask after it, but it looked like it had seen better days and that was certainly not the original case.

Not Swiss but a neighbor - the German Pfaff 360. Look how sturdy this is! Solid metal with the exception of a few plastic knobs, and built to last. And purchasing one costs about the same as (ok, maybe a tiny bit more if the seller is stubborn) Ikea's sewing machine:

Umm... ok. Great for a kid, sure, I can see that. Although, I can't say that before going on my vintage kick I wasn't intrigued when I saw it at IKEA in person... now that I take a closer look, I think it is made by the same company that made my own wimpy plastic machine that I now can't bear the sight of. I think even as a back-up, I would still prefer a lovely solid metal machine with a history... some soul! Like this amazing Husqvarna:

I was sold on the beautiful hammertone-green paint finish. A real Swedish-made machine, too, unlike the above-mentioned imposter...

A couple of Singers rounded out the sighting...

Including a hand-crank one that is exactly like the ones my mother and grandmother used, although I confess I have become spoiled using an electric one. This would be the perfect counterpart to a manual typewriter but they are a whole lot less portable! Since it is unlikely one would travel much with it anyway, why not tether it to an electrical outlet and make it easier to use? That's how I see it. Unless you live in Accra with frequent power outages, in which case this is the best option.

Anyhow, moving on. This post is already long enough, but I promised some typewriter listings, so I wanted to show you a few things here and there that have caught my eye:

• Anyone want to tell Alan Seaver that someone has pinched one of his pictures (of a Deutsche Remington) to sell a typewriter on Etsy? The funny thing is that the stolen picture does not match the description (apparently a Butler Brothers Remington No. 2), but the description is also lifted word-for-word from Alan's site. Whew. That is a lot of cutting-and-pasting! That sort of hard labor does not come cheap, either, only $350. 
•  Speaking of Etsy, I suppose this is what the keychoppers need all those keys for - even the plastic ones that I could not imagine being used for jewelry. The seller is also using some "faux vintage" keys in his work, but I suspect a few of them are real. (Take a look at his sold items as well, it seems to be a brisk business.)
• Even on the mannequin, this hand poised over a typewriter is in a rather compromising position...
• I am looking forward to Robert Messenger's biting commentary on this funky atomic retro orange typewriter and the frenzied bidding it has received. mAybE I sHouLD L@@K into using random capital letters, too.
• It is not often that I see a Swissa for sale in the US - I love how the seller does not know how to "change" it to type in cursive!
• Finally, this is a beautiful Rooy/ Roxy - or at least fetchingly photographed. It is nice seeing a QWERTY one of these pop up every so often.

Thrift Store Traipsings, Bern

This is (or was) my sewing machine - plastic fantastic does not even begin to describe it. Cute in a peculiar way, but felt - and behaved - more like a toy than anything one could do serious work on. Definitely the Olivetti MS-25 of sewing machines, when what I needed was a Studio 44, if you know what I mean.

Given the space constraints at home, I had in mind something small and portable as a replacement sewing machine, and the Bern stores did not disappoint, turning up at least three Elna Grasshoppers. This one seemed to have a rather antiquated plug, and I wasn't sure whether we could get it working. The thing about buying from a thrift store is there isn't much chance of trying out your (electrical) purchase. Typewriters are much less complicated that way.

This seemed to have a more modern plug, but then I started asking myself questions about the knee bar (most later sewing machines have a foot pedal). How did that work? Would I hate it? I didn't want to carry this all the way to Geneva and realize I didn't care for it. Besides, at $50, it wasn't all that inexpensive - a fair price, I'm sure, but I felt that after a tiring day of thrift store hopping, it had to be a really good deal to justify the effort of carrying it all the way back (while they are small, the all-metal construction and case results in a pretty hefty machine). Anyway, I have seen Grasshoppers in the Geneva market and I was confident that if I really wanted one, it would turn up closer to home eventually.

So we left Bern without a sewing machine, but I was satisfied with my sightings. There was a Bernina somewhere on this shelf (bottom right, large green suitcase):

And for a very reasonable price of $30. But by then I didn't feel like dragging it out and examining it, as a newbie to sewing machines I wasn't sure what I would be looking for (and how to test it thoroughly, assuming the store would let me), and if I had thought the Elna was heavy, this was much bulkier. Also, my goal was to avoid a space hog and this seemed much too large.

But, what do we have here, next to the sewing machines? Lots of typewriters! Indeed, I have noticed many thrift stores keep them close together. There wasn't anything on the shelves that I felt like photographing closely; all of them are fairly common: Hermes Ambassador, plastic Hermes 3000, Hermes Standard 4, a couple of electrics. Also a Lettera 35 just out of the frame, I think.

We found this in another part of the same store, and I thought it was definitely worth photographing: this was my first time finding a Studio 46 in the wild! I had not realized how much like a Lettera 35 its case is, and that the body of the typewriter is all-metal. Peculiar styling, though, and not really to my taste (sorry, Ton), although I can appreciate the lovely blue color.

On the other end of the Olivetti spectrum, the same store also offered a Studio 42 for the highly optimistic price of $100. Especially considering that the paintwork on this was in the worst condition of possibly any typewriter I have ever come across. A closer look:

Yikes.

A quick run-down of the other sightings: I thought it was fun how this thrift store had nicely integrated typewriters into their office furniture display.

The first typewriter is a Hermes standard, and there was also a wedge-shaped Brother electric, a plastic Hermes 3000 (techno typeface), and an Adler Primus:

Another desk displayed an Orga Privat:

And a Remington Noiseless Standard:

In another store we sighted this fluorescent orange electric Facit:

And that was it for the Bern sightings. I didn't purchase any machines, but the nice thing about sewing is that one can always find useful odds and ends in any thrift store, so my trip wasn't wasted - I came home with a few lengths of fabric to play with.