When my friend Sarah asked if I’d be interested in her family’s 1954 sewing machine, I got excited. I was thinking it might be time for a replacement and loved the idea of getting a vintage machine.
Don’t get me wrong. I adore my thirty-year-old Pfaff Tiptronic 6232. We’ve made so many projects together, including lots of quilts. Unfortunately, it’s showing its age. It contains a computer chip that the machine can’t run without. I’ve had to replace it twice already, and imagine it’s going to be harder and harder to find. The zigzag stitch is unreliable and it’s old enough that no one will guarantee the work they do on it.
I haven’t gotten around to replacing it because I’ve had my straight-stitch-only Pfaff Hobby GrandQuilter to rely on. Also, I’ve been leery of getting a brand new machine. I don’t need a computer or a thousand fancy stitches, and modern machines aren’t made to last.
So Sarah’s offer was timely and welcome. Before seeing this all-metal machine in person, I did some reading and fell in love. I promised myself I wouldn’t decide until after I’d tested it, but it didn’t take much to convince me.
I felt a lot more confident taking on this older machine since I know its entire history. Sarah’s grandmother Beatrice was its first owner. Sarah’s a careful sort of person and I imagine that trait runs in the family. The fact that she had all the original paperwork confirmed this. So despite its age, this sewing machine shows little wear and was really quite clean.
Needless to say, I was sold.
Right after I brought the Pfaff 130 home, I got sick. I had to wait over a week before I felt well enough to touch if for fear I would do something stupid and break it. So I spent my sick time sorting and researching the weird accessories. I have identified nearly everything at this point, and intend to test them all. But first, I needed to clean the machine.
At last, I was ready to clean it. I was particularly concerned about some old masking tape on the sewing deck, and was trying to pick a cleaner that would remove it. I was moments from trying Goo Gone when I remembered warnings that you should be careful or you might destroy the finish. I paused long enough to get educated, and am I glad I did.
As one expert put it, there are only two things it’s safe to clean the outside of a vintage machine with: kerosene, and sewing machine oil. LNK I only had the later, so that’s what I used.
I didn’t believe it would work. How many times have I struggled to get sticky goo off some surface with no luck? But in the video I watched, LNK the woman said to soak the masking tape in oil. I did, and it worked! It took a couple of passes, soaking, then rubbing, but all of the tape gunk is gone.
After that success, I gleefully used oil on everything else. As expected, the machine was really quite clean inside. There were tiny amounts of dust and a few bits of thread under the bobbin shuttle, but that was all.
After two hours of slow, careful work, I had the machine clean, oiled, and running. It does a straight and zigzag stitch, and I can adjust stitch length and width. In fact, it makes the tiniest stitches I have ever seen.
I’m already besotted with my new old sewing machine, so besotted, I’m calling her Beatrice, in honor of her first owner. I’m so luck this carefully cared for Pfaff 130 has come my way.
Would you want to own a vintage sewing machine? Why or why not?
That machine is a real treasure. My mother had a Singer that looked similar, about the same vintage.
Most of my research info is actually about vintage Singers, which are much more prevalent in the U.S. Fortunately, at least some of the accessories are similar, helping me puzzle things out even though it’s a different brand.