My new sewing machine

I got a new sewing machine yesterday! Well, it's new to me anyway. A quick glance at the photos will tell you that it's not actually a new machine - it is a Singer 201K, made in Kilbowie in Scotland in 1950 or 1951. (Fact fans: this was once the largest sewing machine factory in the world, at one point employing 12,000 people.)  The serial number on this machine allows me to trace it to part of a batch of 50,000 machines which were allocated to a batch on December 18, 1950, but I don't know if that was the end date or the start date.

This is a beautiful sturdy piece of machinery. It weighs a lot, and I'd struggle to carry it for any distance, but I firmly believe that it will outlast me and still be in working order when I'm long gone. This is in stark contrast to my modern sewing machine, which was fairly lightly used for three years and then broke. A small plastic tab snapped on the handwheel, rendering the whole machine useless until I can get a replacement, and none of the repair shops here seem hopeful of getting a spare for that particular part. In any case, although I loved that little machine and learned to sew properly on it, it's incapable of anything beyond light duty. Two layers of denim or suchlike would leave the little motor whirring in futile desperation as it tried to force the needle through the fabric and got nowhere.

In contrast, I am pretty sure the 201K would pierce bone if I was foolish enough to stick my finger under the needle when it's at full speed. Gotta be careful of my hands around this one! According to what I've read from various sewing or machine enthusiasts on the internet, this was the finest model that Singer ever produced and I should consider myself lucky to own one. It can't do fancy stitches - I can go straight forwards, or straight backwards, and alter the stitch length using a lever, but that's it - but what it does do, it does perfectly. The mechanical parts can be serviced by anybody, and the instruction manual gives details on how to do that. Singer makes the manuals readily available (it's great to see a company still standing by its old machines), and of course it churned out a lot of this model at the time so the parts can be found online.

The machine comes in a large lockable bentwood case, which I'm hoping to restore a little to hide the scratches. It has been fitted with an electric motor and light, and the motor itself is controlled by a curved metal bar which is fitted into the hole on the bottom right of the case, and moved by the user's knee. This is a change from the foot pedal that I'm used to on my other machine, but apparently it's easy to work with once you're used to it. The motor can be removed, too. The 201 was mostly an electric machine, but the 201K (made in Scotland) was catering for a European market where many homes were not yet fitted with elecric sockets. Because of this, the machine is belt-driven rather than gear-driven and that means it can be fitted with a hand crank or a treadle and used without electricity. Have to say I find that very tempting! By all accounts treadling is very soothing, and of course it's free to use and burns up a few calories too.

I'm short on bobbins at the moment, so I probably won't be able to get much use out of this machine just yet, but I've tracked down a couple of people who might have spare ones that they'll part with. Right now I just have one bobbin wound with emerald green thread, which is better than nothing but perhaps not the most versatile of colours!