How Many Sewing Machines Do We Need?

Welcome to this episode of Who Gets the China? Where we are navigating the joys and challenges of life with aging parents, one family heirloom at a time. In this case, it's vintage sewing machines.

My mom is a gifted quilter and sewist, as I have mentioned before. She’s made everything from queen-size quilts to pink taffeta and lace prom dresses (of course, we still have that)!

Once we spent a summer slipcovering the heaviest, most awkward swiveling bucket chair in a beautiful blue and white Chintz. We almost killed each other a few times. But it turned out great and I can make a mean corded trim.

She passed that skill down to me and I’ve passed it on to my daughters. Even my younger nephews know their way around a machine. You never know when it will come in handy.

You need to know that sewing machines can be temperamental. Especially newer ones which are made out of plastic so they go out of tune easily and cost more to fix than to replace.

Somehow that has gotten us to a place where there are 4 machines at my mom’s house. Yep, four.

* One that works

* One that maybe kind of works

* One that doesn’t work

* A vintage Singer

The kind in a stand-up wooden cabinet from 1955 that can be operated with or without electricity, but the wires are frayed and you need to hold the cord just-so for the power to work. My mom inherited it from my aunt when she moved into a senior living community and she wasn’t using it anymore.

Now this heavy, awkward machine lives in the garage and every time we need to get into the storage shelves we have to drag it out of the way. At over 35 lbs, it’s no easy feat.

It hasn’t been used in ages and needs re-wiring and an overhaul to make it work. But it was handed down from family and there is an emotional attachment. It also represents the hope that “one day I’ll refurbish it and use it.” Well, with 3 other machines in the wings, no, you probably won’t.

It took years to decide that it is not going to get used and that it may as well find a new home where it can live out its intended purpose. But where? And how? And who would take it?

My mom, sister, and I decided (or maybe I strongly encouraged us) to have a go at FB Marketplace.

Easier said than done! We have to (try and) turn it on - it works! Even the old lightbulb still works. I research what model it is, how old it is, how much it might be worth, assess its condition, etc. I learned a lot of useless knowledge, like you can put the serial number into Google and find out where your model was made - kind of like a Cabbage Patch doll. (Ours was from New Jersey.)

You have to take photos, videos, craft the listing and monitor the responses, or crickets, as the case may be. I became obsessed with the Messenger pings and the Facebook group for vintage Singer machines. People just want to talk about your machine and ask you questions or suggest information or show you photos of their machines. I just want to sell the damn thing.

After several days, a possibly legit buyer reaches out and he wants to buy it for his girlfriend - who doesn’t sew. This is a huge red flag to us, and especially my mom who thinks it's crazy to buy a vintage machine for someone who doesn’t sew. I mean, she’s not wrong, but I worry she will talk him out of it. So I tell her to stay in the house while he’s here. I don’t really want a stranger knowing more about us than is required anyway. (That turns out not to be really true.)

Finally the very chatty buyer shows up. He’s been researching machines for 3 days and is an expert. He shows us all kinds of tricks and how things work we never knew. As an engineer, he’s hooked. But, he’s considering 3 other machines and he takes us through photos of each and the sellers’ stories. He’s conflicted. Which one should he choose?

I offhandedly share that this was my Aunt “Betty’s” machine and it had one owner all these years. For some reason, that little bit of human connection sealed the deal. He’d much rather gift his girlfriend a machine with a story and a past than something off a dusty shelf in a storage unit repair shop.

I get that. I totally do. Something that has history and soul can call out to you and make you feel completely different about it. We haggled, he got a good deal, and we found an enthusiastic new home for Aunt Betty’s machine.

My sister rolled her eyes and laughed at me for this transaction that took way longer than it needed to. If I am being honest, if I hadn’t had a plane to catch, I probably would have told him half my life’s story that relates to my aunt. But I resisted. We loaded this beast into his too-small sedan and they were on their way to a new life.

A few days ago he sent me photos of the lovingly refurbished machine, gleaming and ready to create again. I loved seeing it ready for a new life.

I hope his girlfriend, “Caryn with a C,”