All About a 1934 Singer 28K Handcrank Sewing Machine, and Its Journey from England, Through Turkey, Spain and Further

 

I didn’t plan to come home with a sewing machine yesterday, truly I didn’t. On seeing it sitting on top of its case under a table in Feather Your Nest, a local antique mall, the chrome shine on its hand wheel caught my eye and I had to take a look, just like a magpie. 

Me at that moment, making a beeline… Photo from Grungaloo, Wikimedia Commons

Ooh, it was in gorgeous condition! Ooh, there was its case, with a drawer (!), and an international shipping line’s label (!) pasted outside, ooh, and an original manual, and goodies in that little drawer. The price being fair, at that moment I thought, home it comes. I’ll have to sell the Singer 27, but home it comes.

And here it is now, a member of one of the more storied models of Singer, known for its simplicity of design, its durability (obviously), its long reign (1880s to 1960s!) and its lovely stitching ways. If you look up “Singer 28” on YouTube, you will find a lot of loving views and stories. 

But in this case, there’s much more.

Singer 28K serial number Y9309795
Made in May 1934 in Kilbowie, Clydebank, Scotland

Here’s that label, hinting at overseas travel…

That’s American Export Lines, a major cargo shipping service in the Mediterranean, from New York, gaining that particular name in 1936. The stamp on top shows that this piece of cargo was inspected by the United States. The shipping line kept that name until 1964.

Does this whet your interest…a portable sewing machine that traveled? Come with me as my son Noah and I explore the machine and discover that it has quite a story, that it belonged to two women who taught at the American Girls College in Istanbul, that it was first in Canterbury, England, that it later went to Spain, and finally came to the U.S. in the 1960s, probably when that shipping label was applied and the stamp on top. 

What a tale, occurring as it did in the turmoil of the Depression years, the darkening of the globe before World War II, the terrifying War years, and the rebuilding, realigning period afterwards. Because the machine was so beautifully cared for, and because the second owner, sensing that this little machine had a special history, left a letter explaining it, tells me that she and her predecessor probably would have been nifty to meet, what with their skills and experiences, including teaching abroad during such a swathe of the 20th century.

Here is a video all about it, including the moment I discovered the letter, along with other surprises. I hope you enjoy the trip!

Oh, the last installment of the 1901-1903 Edwardian summer gown, setting it into its milieu, is not far from being ready, but with the Season almost upon us, I am not sure when I’ll have it posted. Meantime, all safety, health, and cheer to you.