Necchi NA Nora

Certain machines require that I stalk the tall grass, then pounce.  I've been wanting a Nora for about 2 years and every time I find one, it's either too far away, too expensive, or in really terrible shape.  I found this one at the GW site: it was within my loosely enforced budget and in good shape.  As for distance, shipping was surprisingly reasonable -- but this is my second experience with a machine shipped via FedEx and I'm not happy.  The subject requires a small blog post of its own, so I will write one soon.

What I like about this machine is pure aesthetics.  The rounded, bullet-shaped design is what I consider Necchi's finest of the 1960s and the hulk of flat sheet metal between the cap and the throat balances the smooth form with heft.  The salmon pink color is almost ironic, although the machine came in several other colors.  (Truth be told, I wanted the hammered silver but I didn't want to spend $300.)  The hand wheel is that wonderfully tactile large, away-from-the-pillar design that is the very best for someone with hands my size and the mass of this wheel means that the inertia it generates keeps the machine running exceptionally powerfully.  Sure, some immediate start/stop control is lost due to weight but once I replace the cloth/synthetic rubber belt with a lugged version, the controller (my foot, rather) will have better control over the needle bar.

Those familiar with the Supernova models will have no trouble recognizing the familiar knobs for length, width, limiters, and tension.  The pressure knob is the screw-cap variety with a built-in oil port complete with bearing.  The angled spool pins (one is broken off) are an elegant and low-tech solution to the problem of bouncing, noisy spools, using gravity and a lower angle to draw thread downward off the spool, thus pulling the spool down to the platform.  Perfect.

I'm not entirely certain but I don't believe this model is double needle-capable, as the hook faces leftward rather than forward.  I will have to research this, though.  I don't have a manual, though I will be searching for a download when I have a few minutes.

The 1 amp motor is so quiet!  I really should do a video of this machine just to show how smooth and silent it is -- even more surprising, as this machine is oscillating rather than full rotary.  Though I need to pull the motor (and tighten the set screw on the motor shaft) for general cleaning and to polish the commutator, etc., it runs like a top, though I detect a little slowness.

I'm still cleaning the exterior and will soon begin some surgical kerosene and alcohol application on certain interior parts.  The machine included a really beat-up but genuine Necchi case, a Necchi box of attachments (mostly presser feet, some Necchi needles, two additional plates, etc.), and an additional Necchi controller.  Now my Lelia 513 has a Necchi controller of its own once this one is rewired.  Hurrah!

   

Free-Westinghouse LZ

 

Sometimes having a good eye really pays off.  Or perhaps I was simply paying attention.  The above machine is one I spotted in a craigslist ad about 8 months ago.  Although the dark picture showed the machine to be extremely dirty as well as distant, I thought the outline of the machine was interesting and the cabinet looked good.  For several months this ad reappeared again and again.  The price dropped once, down to $60 or best offer.  I kept wondering about the machine but never contacted the seller.  

Finally, curiosity got the better of me and I called the seller.  (He only accepted calls on his listings.  Sellers take note: by forbidding e-mails, you may be greatly narrowing your pool of potential buyers.  In this instance it was, of course, my gain.)  We met at a small, filthy warehouse about 30 minutes north of my home into which was crammed every imaginable knick-knack, all kinds of furniture from cheap and tacky to middle brow reproduction, etc.  After some confused digging, he finally found a dusty, dirty but very nice sewing table under a pile of crap.  

The machine was covered in a grime unlike anything else I've had to deal with.  It didn't take much to rub a bit off and see that the machine was in excellent condition and is a very beautiful design.  In fact, the dirt on this machine probably protected the finish.  I'd seen the Free-Westinghouse label many times but I had never seen this model until then.  The desk-type table's drawers were stuffed with attachments, the sales receipt, other small items, but no manual.  He offered it to me for $50 and I accepted.  So pleased that he made a sale, he turned and spied a Kenmore machine nearby.  He explained his need to be rid of it and offered it for $10.  I accepted, gladly.  We loaded them into my car (I'm always grateful for sellers who offer their assistance, even if I'm more than able to handle the load myself) and I excitedly drove home.

The machine is a Free-Westinghouse LZ, a zig-zag machine made in 1955 in what used to be West Germany.  It is actually a re-badged Anker RZ and there are two re-badged versions to my knowledge: the Free-Westinghouse and a New Home version with minor differences.  These machines were top-of-the-line in their day (zig zag and adjustable needle position weren't altogether common back in the day).  They were reportedly rather expensive and Anker (as well as FW and NH) didn't have large market share as did Singer or Kenmore.  Thus, they didn't sell well and not a great many were made.  Thus, this particular machine is somewhat rare.

It has a 1 amp motor and runs very, very quietly.  It does need a new belt and bobbin tire but it's in such great shape I have to wonder how much sewing it's actually seen.  The clear coat is thick and shiny, the decals are intact, the knobs and levers work smoothly, and the chrome and nickel are nearly perfect.  Even the cabinet (despite a small spot near the front left edge of the machine -- see picture) is in great shape.

This Free-Westinghouse LZ is a machine I enjoyed cleaning and oiling because the transformation was dramatic, even if it took an entire day of detailing.  And so even though I didn't really know what I was looking at in that dark photo months ago, I was able to spot a gem based upon the machine's outline, the cabinet, and the style of its zig-zag lever.  (The other controls were too small in the picture to really see.)

If you've ever wondered how to find great stuff among the ordinary, it's possible that by taking a closer look, by training yourself to see beyond dust and detritus, you may find what you seek.  True, it's only a sewing machine but I've found other non-sewing items that are just as interesting.  Try really looking -- your powers of observation may be well-rewarded.

 

 

   

Kenmore 158.18150

 

Walking through a thrift store near my home, I spied two Kenmore sewing machine cases sitting snugly next to one another on the lowest shelf gathering dust.  It was 50% Off Day at the local St. Vincent de Paul and I began to open the hard plastic cases (one in golden yellow, the other a mint green) with the odd mixture of hope, intrigue, amusement, trepidation, and excitement common to my other thrift store jaunts.  

At this point in my collecting, I wasn't a fan of Kenmores.  I grew up in a Singer household and we looked down on those who bought Kenmore machines.  These two machines I purchased that fateful day convinced me that while Singer began to cut corners and produce inferior machines in the late '60s and 1970s, Sears' contracts with Jaguar/Maruzen and Soryu in Japan ensured they would be selling wonderful, all-metal, powerful machines into the early '80s.

I tested both machines at the store's testing station.  The 1815 hummed as if it were brand new and despite a series of small scratches on the front rim of the bed, is in great shape.  The other machine, a near-mint 158.19461, stalled and moaned.  I tried moving the stitch selector, moving the needle bar by hand, checked under the top -- nothing changed.  I took both to the register, explained the problem, and the employee very generously lowered the price of the 1946 from $20 to $2.  And since this was 50% Off Day, I paid $10 for the 1815 pictured here and a whopping $0.99 for the 1946.

After figuring out the 1946, I soon found that I had purchased two very, very nice sewing machines.  Smooth, powerful, quiet, beautiful stitches, consistent tensions -- these are keepers.  The 1815 is a higher end model, as it has a substantial cam stack with utility stitches as well as a cam assembly for decorative options.  That it's in a portable carrying case makes the machine even more valuable to me as I'm 6'2" and the tables in which one often finds these machines are too small for my long legs, often of questionable quality after decades of Big Wheel dents and science projects, and take up space in my increasingly small sewing space.  

Have you ever engaged in Kenmore discrimination?