The Little Things

[Espee]

Now I've got to check out George Hall!

 

[Undertow]

I like to hit our church's annual garage sale for knick knacks and records. The elderly parishoners end up donating all their old "junk", including book after book of 78's and boxes of 45's.

I found a new love for the The Three Suns thanks to one of those sales.

 

[LizzieMaine]

I think the way 78s are viewed reveals the vast gulf between those who Get It and those who don't.

Those who Don't Get It see those boxes at the Sally-Ann or the rummage sale and say "Pfft, blue Deccas and red Columbias. I bet *those* aren't worth anything."

Those who Get It see those boxes and think -- o boy, music! Nice to see there's some people around still who Get It.

 

[vitanola]

I LIKE blue Deccas.

It is the Black label Personality Series that I can do without.

Red Columbias have some wonderful stuff on them, Jerry Mazenec, Frankie Yankovic, Bic Beiderbecke, Bessie Smith, Frank Teschemacher, Benny Goodman, Harry James, The Val-Taro Musette...

Then there are the Mitch Miller supervised sessions from the early 'fifties.

Enough to give nay label a bad name.

 

[LizzieMaine]

There's some good Crosby material on black Decca. Not as good as blue Decca, but still worth one's fifty cents. "Put It There, Pal" still makes me laugh out loud.

As for Shep's New Music, it's good listening -- but it's hard not to think "my gawd, that's Festus singing the vocal!"

 

[Shangas]

What Ho, St Louis.

For finding "little things" to fill your house with, remember that people were very thrifty. They would only put something in their house if they were gonna use it. Decorations came secondary. So I think you should take that approach. Don't buy something because "it's pretty". But at the same time, if you must, buy it because it's worth buying it.

Household necessities of the 1920s/30s would've included such things as...

- Copper hot-water bottle.

These are easily found at antiques shops etc. You'll have to make a new cosy/carry-pouch for it (the original will be LONG gone), but things like these were handy in colder climates when you went to bed at night. I have one, and I'd be lost without it in winter.

- Sewing-machine.

An antique treadle or hand-crank Singer was indispensable to MANY households. It wasn't practical to send your clothes out to be repaired, or altered. You did it yourself, at home. My grandmother used a treadle, and an electric Singer sewing-machine, to support her family for the better part of 50 years. Without her expertise as a dressmaker and her sewing-skills, they would all have ended up on the streets.

A hand-crank Singer 99k sewing-machine. My grandmother had the electric-power version of this. It came out in 1924 and was discontinued in 1954. It's a solid, compact (relatively speaking) and cheaply-bought machine. LizzieMaine will probably back me up on this.

The great thing about the handcrank and treadle machines is that they don't eat into your electricity bill and they're a free workout.

I saw your posting that you were worried about having to fix your appliances. Take it from me, these old sewing-machines are a piece of cake. Provided that all they need is a cleaning and oiling, you could it easily as a weekend project (and a few weekends thereafter, to get it to tip-top condition). I've already repaired two machines (one which I own, my grandmother's; another which was a friend's) and a third, which I'm in the process of fixing (a gift from my aunt).

- Copper pots and/or pans.

Stuff like this was important. It was practical, long-lasting, it looked pretty and it was easy to clean. Want a cheap copper-cleaning trick? Get two bricks. Grind them together over a piece of paper. Siphon off the brick-dust into a bowl. Add olive-oil. Stir. With a rag, apply mixture to copperware, and scrub thoroughly. The oil and dust mixture acts as polishing abrasive and keeps the metal shiny. It's practically free, and it's been a household trick since the Victorian era.

Copper looks pretty, but more importantly, it's a great retainer of heat. A useful characteristic for your hot-water bottle (above).

- A clock.

Every good house has to have at least one clock. And really nice-looking, but relatively cheap 1920s/1930s/40s clocks can be found if you know what you're after, and where to chase after it. A friend of mine has a big, 8-day mantlepiece clock which she inherited from her parents. She winds it once a week and then leaves it alone to remind her when her favourite telly-shows are on.

 

[Undertow]

You know, I wasn't even aware that the color of the labels had any meaning. Chalk that up to not knowing enough about anything. Like you said Lizzie, I see a box of 78's and I think, "Wow! These are going to sound great!"

I guess it's because I've never really been in the business of collecting the music, just listening.

 

[St. Louis]

I love Shanga's suggestions. That copper tea kettle is gorgeous. Re: repairs; I'm going to try to repair my flap toaster, as per Lizzie's encouragement, but a sewing machine would be beyond me -- I am much better at breaking things than fixing them, or more accurately, breaking them while fixing them.

I have a Kay Kyser record featuring Gloria Wood singing "There Ought to be a Society For the Prevention of Cruelty to Poor Unfortunate Lovers" that would never sell today; it's so hilariously creepy. I gather it's from 1944-47, based on some later compilations that are now out on CDs It has a red Columbia label. It's a fox trot, btw.

Oh, and this reminds me of a question that has bothered me. How do you clean your 78s? I got mine in a thrift shop, and they were very dirty. I cleaned them with a soft cloth and some alcohol. Is that okay?

Right, I found one more little thing; not that I'm about to spend $25.00 on this, but it made me laugh: http://www.etsy.com/listing/91697394/1930s-1940s-private-seal-facial-tissue

Not positive that that is really authentic to my era, but it would be ... a conversation piece.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Alcohol isn't good for 78s -- it'll dissolve the shellac if you use enough of it. Better to use plain water, with maybe a little degreasing detergent. Slosh it on with a soft paint pad, rinse, be careful not to get the label wet, and let completely dry before playing.

I never fail to be entertained by the 1942 Kay Kyser recording of "He Wears A Pair Of Silver Wings," with Harry Babbitt singing the vocal completely -- ah -- straight. In general Kyser had a "fun" band, but his work with ballads was always superb.

 

[Stanley Doble]

There are still sewing machine repair men around. I had an electric Singer overhauled for $35 a few years ago, I bought it at a yard sale for $20 about 10 years before that. I use it for repairing work clothes and overalls.

For cleaning old records I use a soft paint brush, and warm water with a shot of dish washing detergent. Gently brush in the direction of the grooves, following the curve of the record. Be careful to keep the water away from the label. Rinse with fresh water and pat dry by laying the record on a tea towel and covering with another tea towel. Stand them in a dish drying rack until dry.

I have washed lots of records this way and never hurt them so far as I know.

 

[Stanley Doble]

For small appliance repairs, the fix it shop went out of business 60 years ago. But you might find an old retired guy with a garage like Clint Eastwood had in Gran Torino. There are still people who appreciate well made things and know how to fix them the problem is finding them.

 

[Shangas]

Don't be scared, Louie. Those old Singers are INCREDIBLY tough. If you actually successfully broke one, I'd give you a gold medal. They're solid steel. Nothing short of a blowtorch would even harm them. All you have to do is pull it apart, clean out the gunk, reassemble it and oil it. It's not nearly as scary as it sounds. If it was, I would never have started. This is my grandmother's Singer 99, from 1950:

Along with...SOME...of the original accessories that I've been collecting for it:

The solid steel tailor's shears, and the 5ft measuring-tape belonged to my grandmother (she was a professional dressmaker); everything else I had to buy at the local flea-market.

Of course, you can't always be this lucky. I inherited my Singer from granny, so it cost me nothing. You might have to go out and find one (or possibly, ask a relation. They were very common). To get it in the condition it is in those photos took a lot of polishing and cleaning and scrubbing, but it's done!

If you ever get an old Singer and need to overhaul it, let me know. I'd be happy to guide you through the whole process. What you need, what you do, how you do it, and why.

 

[LizzieMaine]

If you want to take the plunge on a vintage sewing machine, you can very likely find a Singer 99 such as Shangas has shown for $50 or so, or even much less if you get lucky. There are far more machines out there than there are people who know how to sew, and because they were built so well they're nearly all in functional condition. The only way to truly kill an old Singer is to immerse it in water for several years until it rusts into a solid block. Anything short of that, and it can be brought back to life.

The 99 is the two-thirds-size little brother of the full-sized Singer 66, which is exactly the same machine, only bigger, and the same price guidelines apply.

The only old Singer that's seriously expensive is the Featherweight, which is a cult item among the quiliting-bee crowd because it's so small it can easily be carried from place to place. Those can rarely be found for less than $300, but if you don't plan to carry the machine wherever you go there's no particular advantage to owning one.

 

[Shangas]

The Singer 99 might be the 'smaller' brother of the 66, but don't be fooled. All up, it weighs about 32 pounds. That said, Lizzie's comments are generally true. Short of the machine itself being broken/in a state of neglect beyond repair (unlikely), they are easy to restore and bring back to running order, mostly with stuff that you have lying around the house (or which you can buy really easily).

The famous Singer models are the 99, 66, 15, VS, TS, Featherweight, and the 201. The V & T S machines (Vibrating, and Transverse Shuttle) are the oldest; they date to around the 1880s. These were the first home sewing-machines that didn't look like science-experiments. The Model 27/28 is typical of these.

The ones you're most likely to find are the Model 66, 99, 15, and the 201. The others are older/rarer, or as Lizzie says, more expensive/collectable. But the 66/99/15 is typical of the kind of household machine that would've been in a middle-class residence at the early 20th century.

My grandmother, as a dressmaker, had loads of these (I think, half a dozen). We still have three of them in the family; the Singer in my previous post, a 'Butterfly' and a 'Modern' (both clones of the Singer 15).

For reasons that Lizzie explained, vintage sewing-machines can be bought for fairly low prices, if you're lucky. Or if you're super-lucky, like I've been, you'll inherit one from a family-member, or be given one by a relation or friend. Cost? Zilch! Except perhaps, in a trip to the doctor for a hernia from carrying the damn thing!!

If you're after vintage appliances for your home redecoration thingy, I would seriously recommend a vintage Singer. Back then, it was MUCH cheaper to make and repair your OWN clothes, than it was to go out and buy them/have them repaired for you. And it wasn't just clothes - bedsheets, pillowcases, curtains, slip-covers, blankets, quilts, tablecloths, placemats...they were all run under the Singer. They were built TOUGH for a reason, y'know! No self-respecting housewife would have been without one; either a treadle, or a handcrank.

And the good thing about a treadle-machine, is that you can pack it up, and it looks like a nice occasional/side-table in the living-room, with a bowl/vase of flowers on top. A friend of mine has a prewar (1939) Singer 15 treadle that she uses as a BAR when she's not sewing! There's a drinks tray and brandy and whiskey etc...it's quite pretty.

Attachments, accessories etc (such as in my other photos) can be found cheaply at flea-markets, but they require patience to track down. Machine-needles can be found cheaply at any supermarket, or sewing-shop.

I read somewhere that you were thinking of doing up your desk, or whatever.

A vintage pedestal desk, rolltop, or bureau is easily found at any thrift-shop. To dress it up vintage style, you will need...

- Rocker Blotter. Easily found online, or on a chance at a thrift-shop/flea-market.
- Desk Blotter. Harder to find, but they are out there (mine was a $20 steal at a thrift-shop; pure leather!)
- Rotary or candlestick telephone.
- A selection of vintage fountain pens.
- An inkstand/inkwell and dip-pens (if fountain pens are not possible).
- A green-glass banker's lamp (easy to find modern reproductions).
- Old photo-frames (easy to find). For a morbid touch, tie a black ribbon onto one of them, when displaying a snapshot of the recently deceased.
- A typewriter. Cheap, postwar 1950s portable machines can be found at any flea-market for a pittance. A 1920s/30s model, portable or desktop, will be harder and more expensive.

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On a completely unrelated note, you may want a BENTWOOD TREE for your living-room/foyer/front hall, on which to hang coats, hats, brollys, walking-sticks, and drunk friends...