✨ Currently Available: 1938 Singer Featherweight 221 (Pre-War)

This featured machine is a 1938 Singer Featherweight 221, serial AF084719, manufactured October 10, 1938 in Elizabethport, New Jersey. A complete, ready-to-sew 1930s sewing station, including Singer folding card table.

Nearly 90 years old and still sewing beautifully, this pre-war Featherweight has been:

Fully disassembled, deep cleaned (including nicotine removal), and serviced
Carefully re-oiled and reassembled
Rewired with brand new electrical wiring (original foot controller retained)
Fitted with its original Singer bobbin case
Tuned to produce a smooth, even straight stitch

Included with the machine:

Original Singer folding card table
Original manual
Accessories
Optional new LED bulb

A complete, ready-to-sew 1930s sewing station.

📍 Seattle area pickup or will ship anywhere in USA for $125. See my Facebook listing for more details or call/text 212-390-1710

The Sewing Machine I first learned to sew with:

This is the first sewing machine I ever used—a 1951 Singer 221 Featherweight. Just like the name suggests, it’s tiny, light (only 11 pounds!), and folds neatly into a petite black suitcase.⁠

It belonged to my Grandma Nancy and was also the same machine my mom used to sew her prom dress—which my grandma later wore again as Mother of the Bride at my parents’ wedding.⁠ 👰🏻⁠

This machine holds more than stitches—it holds a legacy. And in a twist I didn’t see coming, it’s also the one that reignited my love of restoring vintage sewing machines.

2020: The Year Everything Went Sideways

When I moved back to Seattle during the height of the pandemic, my world felt like it was unraveling at the seams. I wrote about that journey here in Leaving New York and in this post about moving my entire life and business cross-country during lockdown.

Shortly after landing, my main industrial sewing machine broke down—and I was stuck. Buying a new one wasn’t in the cards, and for the first time in a long time, I had no idea how I was going to keep up production.

That’s when my mom offered me my grandma’s Featherweight as a backup. I knew it wasn’t powerful enough to handle all my bag-making materials, but it could still sew labels, finish linings, and do the delicate work I needed in a pinch.

So I brought it home, cracked open the stinky case, and started researching.

The First (Accidental) Restoration

Her wiring was brittle. The motor was tired. But something about that little machine felt hopeful.

I found the wonderful community at @featherweightshop, joined a Facebook group for vintage sewing machine nerds (my people!), and discovered a goldmine of YouTube tutorials.

Restoring her felt like solving a 3D puzzle with history and heart. It was oddly therapeutic—and totally addictive.

What Started as a Stopgap Became a Passion

I never meant to become a sewing machine restorer. I just needed a backup. But now, vintage machines are woven into the fabric of what I do—part art, part utility, and all love. Since then, I’ve restored dozens of machines, from domestic classics to industrial powerhouses. You’ll spot them in my studio and in your bags—the true double-needle machine I use for making straps, the vintage serger that hums like a dream, and now… a new trio of Featherweights.

If you’ve ever dreamed of owning a Featherweight—or you’re just curious about the legacy behind the machine—I’d love to connect.

Interested? 👉 Visit My eBay Store or send me a call/text at 212-390-1710. to connect.