From the moment I heard the reserved cadency from the rise and fall of the presser foot and all of its shiny chrome components, I knew that she had to be mine. ‘She,’ being a circa 1955 Singer sewing machine with the shiny black paint and the iconic gold filigree decals placed in all of the right spots. She came equipped with the reverse stitch function which was a relatively new technology in her heyday and a huge turning point in the evolution of the sewing machine. The reverse stitch function reinforces the strength of a garment kind of like a second set of eyes to ensure the highest quality.

My mind flitted with thoughts of the lucky lady that probably had to save up a few months pay so long ago and the excitement that she must have felt anticipating all of the wonderful things she could now create with ease. It was truly a marvel to behold with all of the Simanco Singer attachments for different effects. Ruffles for curtains, pleats for the dresses, buttonholes for pea coats, oh the how the possibilities were sky-high!

I eagerly paid the $50 asking price, all but yelling, “Just take my money!” to the woman at the counter. I brought her home and cleaned her up. I gingerly went over every part of her and at the end, she shined so splendidly in the dim living room light. She sewed with ease. First, I tried two layers of fabric, then three, then I got carried away and my final number was nine, before I started to worry that any more might ruin the magic so I stopped. Secretly I still wonder how much more she would take if I tried. I was amazed that the stitches were so precisely placed and  so perfectly uniform despite the amount of fabric glutted between the needle and the machine bed.

She was my first, and I probably will never feel as excited about acquiring another, but I developed an affinity for the simplicity, beauty and the perfectly timed clicking she makes every time I take her out.