Or Value Village to the uninitiated.

Normally this is a place I avoid, but my recent quest to find all of the books in the “Singer Sewing Reference Library” has me haunting all of the thrift shops I can find.  Next weekend’s quest will lead us to the flea markets.

I was really only looking for the books, honestly.  Then I decided to wander over to the furniture section, to see if there were any machines there, just for fun.  So many of the machines I’ve been finding in the thrift stores are incomplete or “not working”, so I felt not a lot of risk.  Besides, hadn’t Ryan and I just been talking in the truck on the way over here about me not looking for another machine?  Really, I have all that I need, the only one that I might look for would be a really good “zigzagger”, for some finishing work, but it really wasn’t a priority…

Then it happened.  I spotted a small table, 1960s-ish with a double top ahead of me in the furniture section.

Note: I’m explaining this, because one of the workers at the VV. Boutique had asked how I knew there was a sewing machine inside it when I saw it.  This is how I explained it to her:

Probably the easiest way to spot one of these tables is by this double top.  If a regular desk has a top that’s say 3/4″ tall, a sewing table will have the same, but a second one on top of it, and it’s not joined, so the tops will be obviously doubled, instead of just thick.  Of course if you approach from the left, this is even easier – the hinges between the two tops will give it away as well.

 

Getting closer still, I spotted the matching stool below it. Hmm.. interesting. 🙂  Since I was already looking down, I might as well see if there are cords and a foot around anywhere.  Found one cord hanging, but no foot.  I reached my hand under to see if it’s been secured anywhere, and found a lever.  Following the lever with my hand, I finally felt the pedal.  Another button pedal, with a knee lever attached.  Cool!  I haven’t seen one of these in person and intact before.

Of course, I had to lift the lid.  Inside I saw a tan and beige machine’s backside, with Singer decaled along the upright.  Knowing that this was a less familiar (to me) 50’s and 60s vintage machine, I lifted it out, and set it in the sewing position.  A Singer 403A.

Not a month ago, while visiting my favorite sewing machine repair guy, he’d been extolling the virtues of the 400 Series.  Said his wife had one from new that still purrs like a kitten.  I would think it had better, considering that she has a live-in Sewing machine repair man in the house!

 

I checked to see if the lower bobbin was there, and checked that the machine moved freely.  Turning the handle towards you should have the machine smoothly send the needle up and down through the needle hole in the throat plate.  No crunching sounds, no sticking. It did.

While Ryan held the lid in an upright position so we wouldn’t block the aisle, I pulled up the stool and sat on it, then I pulled a class 66 bobbin and piece of fabric out of my purse….

What, you don’t carry this stuff on your person when you go out somewhere you might run into a sewing machine?

Then, I quickly threaded the machine to see if it would loop the stitches properly.  It did.  Sort of.  Playing with the tension, it’s a little off.  Loosening the top thread kept making the bobbin thread pull through even more, and at full tension, the bobbin thread was the best, I suspected a full dis-assembly, cleaning, and careful reassembly is likely in order.

I decided I’d think about it, and maybe do a little googling to see what I could find out.  It -was- a little more expensive than I usually want to pay for an attic-fresh machine.  Not to mention the cabinet is a little plain.  It didn’t even has a drawer to put stuff in!  The front was just a panel, and no lower drawers on the left (best I guess, given that your seating position is a little off kilter with the knee activated machines) or right.

Wait.  A sewing cabinet without a single drawer? Did they even make those?

Ryan suggested that we plug it in and make sure it works first, so that at least if we decided to come back for it, we’d know it worked, and not make the 50+ km trip for nothing if it didn’t work.   We walked the table over to the testing station, and plugged it in. He resumed his post holding the leaf up.

Once I found the switch for the light (You can’t see it from a standing position), it came on quite quickly, and fairly bright for a sewing machine light.  Delightfully, I also noticed later that it has a glass cover over it,… no more burns from the lightbulb when sewing, like I do with the featherweights.

A quick test, first with the clutch disengaged and the bobbin winder engaged, then with the fabric in it, proved that the motor sounded good and strong, but possibly a little adjustment to the pedal would be necessary.  Great!  A willing participant for the article I wrote but didn’t have pictures for on that very topic.

I still felt like I needed to go home and google it.  I also knew that the 403a takes fashion cams, and wanted to see what availability and price is like for them.  I was willing to take my chances on the machine not being there when we came back, because although it’s a good machine, it wasn’t anything on my “coveted sewing machines” list.

Before we left though, I poked my head below the cabinet to see what the cabinet looked like from below.  I wanted to make sure that it was not about to drop the machine on the floor or something, and spotted something weird on the left underside.

It looked a lot like 4 sides of a 4″x7″ box attached to the left side of the cabinet.  I mentioned it to Ryan, and with the hand that wasn’t holding the leaf, he felt where I was directing him. He gave it a small tug toward him, and the whole side panel hinged out and toward the front of the machine.

 

I caught a glimpse of what was inside the drawer and knew I was buying the machine.

I doubt that anyone at the V.V. Boutique knew the value of the “accessories” that came in the drawer, or if they ever even found them.  I sure did though.

Other than the tiny oil can and the blackside screwdriver (which looks practically new), there’s a square can of Singer Oil with a price of 39cents on it, a more modern bottle of oil, and extremely well oiled box of motor lube, cleaning brush, and a card, also well oiled, that has the full model and serial numbers of the machine on it, with instructions: “If bedplate number does not agree with above number, please correct this stub and mail to Central Agency.”

As an added bonus, it also has the same mounting holes and measurements as the 15-91.  Yay!