Apr 7, 2012
Readers, today's post is as much for me as it is for you.
In fact, I wasn't intending to blog this weekend at all, but I just got back from the Chelsea flea market, where I stumbled across this lovely Pfaff 60 straight stitch sewing machine, in a table, for just -- gulp --$20.
I was THIS close to taking it home with me and had actually opened my wallet, only to discover that I had just $18 on me. Thankfully, in those five seconds I came to my senses. I realized:
1) I have no room for another machine, especially not one in a table.
2) I have a machine I won on eBay that hasn't even arrived yet.
3) I'm in the middle of a sewing project and don't need another distraction right now.
But what a lovely machine. (A little online research tells me that just the machine alone weighs 45 lbs.) It turned very freely and seemed complete. It had a knee pedal (a feature I love). While there were some wrapped wires that looked a little brittle, it was nothing major. Anyway, if you're interested, it's probably still there.
Here are a few other sewing-related things I saw this morning:
A Consew industrial sewing machine chained to its motor.
An entire boxful of foam shoulder pads.
Tons of thread and other old notions.
Many, many bolts of crappy-looking fabric.
All in all, not a particularly inspiring day -- unless you like to dig among the piles...
Friends, I thought it might be helpful to share some useful mantras I've devised, for the many of us who stumble upon vintage sewing machines and find it hard to resist them, even though we don't really need/want/have room for them. You might want to post these on your refrigerator or next to your computer screen.
Shall we recite them in unison?
The world is full of vintage sewing machines; there are more than enough for everyone.
I do not need to purchase this machine. There will always be an even better one down the line.
I leave this sewing machine for someone who needs it and who will be delighted to find it at such a great price.
I commit to spending more time enjoying the vintage sewing machines I already own.
I deserve to have space in my home to sew, rather than live in a maze of vintage sewing machines (and their respective tables).
And finally, a bonus mantra:
I am not responsible for restoring this sewing machine.
Readers, I hope you find these mantras helpful, particularly as spring turns into summer and vintage sewing machines start popping up at your local garage sales, street fairs, and thrift stores like dandelions.
If you can think of any other mantras we might add, please share them. (I find having a photo of the machine to be a nice compensation, btw.)
How do you walk away from a great vintage sewing machine buy -- if indeed you do?
Have a great day, everybody!