The Singer Saga (or What Do Lauren Bacall, Elvis Pressley, and John Lennon Have in Common with a Sewing Machine?)

As promised a few blogs ago, today we’re covering the Singer Sewing Machine Company, their bankruptcy, and where they’re at today.  Why Singer?  Why spend about 2,000 words on one sewing machine company?

Well, Singer is one of the cornerstones of our sewing history.  This was the company, when the right minds came together, developed a domestic sewing machine which was both affordable and durable.  This was the machine which, to a large part, took the burden of hand sewing everything – from underwear to curtains – off the backs of hundreds of women.  This is the machine which was also made affordable for entrepreneurs who had a vision of reasonably priced, ready-made clothing for the masses.  And yes, while Singer wasn’t the only sewing machine available for use, it certainly was the bestseller and the best known.

In the Beginning….There Was a Patent Pool…and the Pool Produced a Workable Sewing Machine

The domestic sewing machine as we know it, came together through a series of shared patents called a “patent pool.”  Issac Merrit Singer wasn’t the first “inventor” (I’m using that term loosely with him – he was more of a borrower of ideas) who wanted to develop a domestic sewing machine.  Elias Howe had spent nine years improving his patent on a domestic sewing machine and suing Singer every time the man tried to “borrow” one of his ideas.  Eventually a lawyer named Orlando Potter (who was president of yet another sewing machine company) hashed out all the best ideas for a sewing machine and talked the inventors into basically a “group patent” for those.  The results led to a patent for a wonderful domestic sewing machine with no threats of lawsuits.

There were nine patents split between four stakeholders:  Elias Howe, Issac Singer, and Wheeler and Watson Manufacturing.  Of those four, I bet the only name recognized by most of you is Isaac Singer.  How did that happen?  There were lots of reasons, but the first one is the company kicked Isaac Singer to the curb.  Singer’s lawyer, Edward C. Clark, realized pretty quickly that due to Mr. Singer’s reputation (probable bigamist, stealer of ideas, all-around questionable business dealings) could possibly drag the company down.  So through a series of board room maneuverings, Isaac Singer was removed as president, Edward Clark was installed as president, and the company’s name was changed from I.M. Singer & Co. to Singer Manufacturing Company.

From there, Clark implemented monthly installment payments, rent-to-own payment contracts, large showrooms for women to come in and try out the machines, door-to- door salesmen, and lots of flashy promotional material.  Sales soared, and by 1860 Singer was the largest sewing machine manufacturer in the world. In 1863, Singer had its first large factory for mass production built in Elizabeth, New Jersey, followed by a factory in Glasgow in 1867 and a larger factory in Kilbowie, Scotland in 1885.  Those of us who have a Singer Featherweight 222 know our machines were produced in the Kilbowie factory.  The factory also produced the first “vibrating shuttle” sewing machine, which was an improvement over the transverse shuttle design. 

However, even prior to the construction of the Kilbowie and Glasgow factories, Singer was marketing itself on an international basis.  By 1855 Singer was an internationally known brand name and won first prize at the World’s Fair in Paris that same year.  By 1910, the company had it’s first workable electric sewing machine and began promoting the installment plans which allowed nearly every household to afford a domestic sewing machine.  These payment plans allowed Singer to go from selling 810 sewing machines in 1853 to selling 262,316 sewing machines in 1876.  Cumulatively by the end of 1876, Singer had sold over two million sewing machines.

Why Manufacture Such a Recognized American Product in Scotland?

The answer to this question (as it is with a lot of questions) is money.  And demand for the machines comes in a close second.  By 1867, enough folks in the United Kingdom wanted a Singer Sewing Machine that the company Vice President, George Ross McKenzie, selected Glasgow as the first overseas manufacturing site.  This decision was due to Glasgow’s iron making industries, cheap labor, and shipping capabilities.  This worked so well that in 1873, a new, larger factory was completed on James Street in Brigeton.  By that time, Singer employed over 2,000 people in Scotland, but they still could not produce enough machines.  It was then decided to build the Kilbowie factory in Clydebank, Scotland.  This factory had a 46-acre campus, to allow for plenty of growth.  Two main buildings were constructed, 800 feet x 50 feet, and each was three stories high.  The buildings were connected by three wings.  Nearly three miles of railways lines were laid throughout the campus to connect the different departments and connect the factory to the main railway stations.  Ahead of its time, the factory was also fireproofed with water sprinklers, making it the most modern factory in Europe.

This allowed the Singer Company to occupy a footprint of nearly a million square feet and employ 7,000 people.  With this space and worker capacity, the factory produced an average of 13,000 sewing machines a week.  Singer was now the largest sewing machine factory in the world.  The Kilbowie factory was so productive that in 1905, the US Singer Company set up and registered the Singer Manufacturing Company, LTD in the United Kingdom. 

Still, even with the factory churning out an average of 13,000 sewing machines a week, the demand grew.  The buildings were expanded to six stories.  The railways expanded to have a Singer Sewing Machine Station in 1907 with connections to adjoining towns and central Glasgow to assist in transporting the workforce from Glasgow to Kilbowie.  “Scientific Management” techniques were implemented which increased the workload while keeping salary overheads low.

However, as rosy as a picture as all this expansion paints, all was not well at Singer.  In 1911 the company hit its first road bump: A walkout and strike of 10,000 workers.  Known as the Singer Strike, the walkout took place in support of twelve women polishers who had seen three staff dismissed, but their workload remained the same.  It was significant in its recognition of the rights of women workers and the need for collective bargaining.  The strike pre-dated the labor movement known as “Red Clydeside.”

Before the World Wars

The Singer Sewing Machine Company was the first complex standardized technology to be mass marketed.  The marketing emphasized the role of women and their relationship to the home, evoking ideals of virtue, modesty, and diligence.  The presence of a sewing machine in a home freed the woman from the tediousness of hand sewing everything, but the machine emphasized the woman sewing for her family and household – not for anyone else – thus accentuating every household needed a Singer Sewing Machine.  Meanwhile, tradespeople who made their living in the garment sewing industry suffered.  Their wages were already poor and got poorer still as women and their families began to rely on sewing machines to make all the needed garments – from formal dress to everyday wear.  And certainly Singer’s credit purchases and rent-to-own arrangements made it possible for any household who wanted a sewing machine to have one.  One of the reasons Singer’s sale numbers increased so rapidly was because of the rent-to-own and credit purchases were used globally, not just in the United States.

World War I

On July 28, 1914, World War I began, although Europe would not see the United States enter the war until April 1915.  The Singer Manufacturing Company in Clydebank switched from producing sewing machines to munitions.  At first glance, this seems like a real stretch – moving from making sewing machines to artillery shells – but if you really think about it, it’s not.  Producing a sewing machine requires machinery with extreme precision and employees who are skilled at those machines.  Singer’s precision machinery and skilled employees received over 5,000 government contracts during World War I and made 303 million artillery shells, shell components, fuses, airplane parts, grenades, rifle parts and 361,000 horseshoes.  By the end of World War I, Singer had a workforce of 14,000 employees, and 70% of those were female.

World War II

During World War II, just as Singer did in World War I, the factories suspended production of sewing machines in order to take on government contracts for manufacturing weapons.  Factories in the United States supplied American forces with Norden bomb sites and M1 Carbine Rifle receivers. 

In 1939, the company was given a production study by the government to draw plans and develop standard raw material sizes for building M1911A1 pistols.  The government asked Singer to produce 500 units of these pistols, but it was difficult.  They were unable to produce the contracted 100 units per day as requested, but the government was so impressed with the quality of the pistols, they requested Singer also produce navigation and targeting equipment components.  Of the approximately 1.75 million pistols produced during World War II, only 500 were produced by Singer, making them a rare and valuable find (the rest of the pistols were produced by Remington Rand and the Ithaca Gun Company). 

Other World War II government contracts for Singer included the M5 Antiaircraft Director and the Bofors 40 mm gun.

After the Wars, Singer Wasn’t the Same

In 1946, after World War II ended, Singer went back to making sewing machines, coming up with one of their most popular, highest-quality, and fully optioned machines in 1957, the 401 Slant-O-Matic.

Featherweights also continued to be sold at a fairly brisk clip, and it seemed as if everything was back to normal in the sewing machine world.

Except it wasn’t.  Society and women didn’t exactly go back to fitting into those neat, stereotypical boxes prior to World War II.  For many women, the war offered them opportunities they had never had – the chance to work outside the home, the chance to make their own money, and the chance to be something other than a housewife or mother.  Many of these women continued to do so after the war ended and had less and less time for sewing.  Sewing machine sales – across the board, not just with Singer – plummeted as women had less and less time for sewing and crafting.  To try to regain some popularity among the younger crowd, Singer began sponsoring rock and roll concerts (Paul Butterfield and the Blues Band, Seatrain, Procol Harum, The Incredible String Band, Mother Earth, Delaney and Bonnie and Friends) and produced a line of Singer record players. 

And in 1968, Singer pulled out all the stops and sponsored Elvis Presley’s ’68  Comeback Special. 

By 1965 diversification had become the life blood to Singer’s bottom line.  Sewing machine sales continued to plummet.  So in 1965, Singer acquired the Friden Calculator Company and then the General Precision Equipment Company in 1968.  Friden became Singer Business Machines which produced the Singer System 10.  General Precision Equipment Company included Librascope, the Kearfott Company, and Link Flight Simulation.  In 1968 Singer bought out GPS Systems and added to Link Flight Simulation in order to have Link Simulations Systems Division.  This Division produced nuclear power plant control room simulators in Silver Springs, Maryland; Tech Road building for Boiling Water Reactor; and the Parkway Building for Pressurized Water Reactor.  These new divisions had factories from Binghamton, New York to Columbia Maryland.

With their bottom line still lagging, in 1971 Singer delved into producing portable home audio and visual equipment.  To this day, you can find some of the Singer brand record and cassette players and film-strip viewers on eBay. 

They also set up a national sales force for CAT phototypesetting machines via Graphic Systems Inc., until it was purchased by Want Laboratories in 1978.

As sewing machine sales (and quality) continued to bottom out, and the diversification just not working the way Singer hoped, the stage was set.  In 1987, corporate raider Paul Bilzerian made a run at Singer.  When no last-minute Singer shareholder or other rescuer appeared, it was over.  Bilzerian purchased Singer and immediately began selling its parts off to re-coup his money.  Kearfott was split and sold to Astronautics Corporation of America and Plessey Company.  The four Link divisions were sold to Canadian Avionics Electronics.  The nuclear power simulators became S3 Technologies (later GSE Systems).  Then in 1989, the sewing machine division was sold to Semi-Tech Microelectronics.

In retrospect, Singer’s sales and profits grew until the 1940’s.  Then the market was affected several ways.  Women weren’t sewing as much.  European and Japanese manufacturers ate into the market with zigzag sewing machines.  Then Singer diversified too much.  Roughly 90 percent of Singer’s revenue was from sewing machines before diversification.  After diversification, this was reduced to 35 percent.

What Now?

Sit tight and get ready to pivot.  What happened after 1989 is a blur.

Before 1978, Singer had its headquarters in Rockefeller Plaza.  After 1978, it moved to Stamford, Connecticut and only had 430 employees. 

In 1986, to compete with the Japanese and European brands such as Bernina, Pfaff, and Viking, it purchased Dalmo Victor.  It then sold Dalmo to General Instrument in 1989 for $175 million in cash.

In 1986, Singer announced the original Singer Sewing Machine Company would be spun off under the name of SSMC, LTD.  In 1989, SSMC was purchased by Semi-Tech Global along with all the rights to the Singer name.  SSMC was renamed once more, back to the original Singer, and then to Singer NV and became based in the Netherlands and owned by a Hong Kong holding company.    The original Singer Corporation was renamed Bicoastal Corporation. 

In 1999, Singer NV declared bankruptcy and was purchased by Kohlberg and Company and moved operations to LaVergne, Tennessee.  This location serves as the wholesale distribution point for parts and sewing machines.  In 2006, Kohlberg also acquired Husqvarna and Pfaff.  Now Singer, Husqvarna, and Pfaff are all family, and they compete with Baby Lock, Bernina, Brother, Janome and Aisin Seiki

Whew.

The Follow Up and the Fall Out

When the Singer Corporation was new, they occupied a 47-story building in Rockefeller Plaza.  It was completed in 1908 and was demolished in 1968 to make way for the One Liberty Plaza development.  For years, it was the tallest building in the world and was the tallest building to be intentionally demolished until the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center in the September 11 attacks. 

Singer was heavily involved in Manhattan real estate from the 1800’s through Edward Clark – the second president of Singer.  Clark built the Dakota Apartments and a few other Manhattan buildings. 

While the company was continuing to thrive in New York, Clark had Ernest Flagg to build a 12-story loft building at Broadway and Prince Streets in Lower Manhattan.  The building is now considered architecturally notable and has been restored. 

In Scotland, from its opening in 1884 until its closing in 1943, the Kilbowie factory produced approximately 36,000,000 sewing machines.  However, the 1950’s and 1960’s saw a period of significant change.  In 1958, Singer reduced production at their main American plant and transferred 40 percent of this production to Kilbowie in a bid to reduce cost and boost the flagging bottom line.  Between 1961 and 1964, the factory underwent a 4 million pound modernization which saw the factory cease the production of cast iron machines and focus on the production of aluminum machines for western markets.  Part of this modernization included the demo of the famous Singer clock. 

At the height of its production in the mid-1960’s, Kilbowie employed over 16,000 workers, but by the end of the Sixties through 1973, the workforce was reduced to 5,000.  Financial problems and lack of orders forced the world’s largest sewing machine factory to close in June 1980, bringing a sad end to over 100 years of sewing machine production in Scotland.  The complex of buildings was demolished in 1998. 

The Singer Railway Station in Scotland is the only lingering sign of what once was.  It still stands and is one of only two railway stations in the United Kingdom named after a factory and remains in operation. 

The famous Singer House, built between 1902 and 1904 at Nevsky Prospekt in Saint Petersburg, Russia was the headquarters of the Russian branch of Singer.  This modern style building has been officially recognized as an object of Russian historical-cultural heritage and at the time of this blog is still standing.

In 2017, Singer launched their new Singer Sewing Assistant App.

In 2018, a large factory fire destroyed a Singer distribution office and warehouse in Seven Hills, Sydney.  Singer had manufactured sewing machines in Australia at a purpose-built plant in the western Sydney suburb of Penrith from 1959 – 1967. 

As of October 31, 2024, the writing date of this blog, independent shops which sell sewing machines have mixed review of Singer machines, with most of those opinions trending downwards.  Dan, from the Sewing Machine Shoppe in Walnut Creek California, put it like this: 

There is a sense in which Singer, Pfaff, and Viking do not exist anymore– not as they once were. The Singer company that designed and manufactured iconic machines such as the 201, 301, and Featherweight– in 1999 that company was acquired by Kohlberg & Company, an American private equity firm that focuses on leveraged buyout transactions. In 2006, Kohlberg & Company also acquired Pfaff and Viking. From there, the three legendary sewing machine companies were merged into one: SVP Worldwide.   Ever since the merger, SVP Worldwide has been bought and sold by two other private equity investment firms. As control of the companies repeatedly changed hands, their unique DNA– the reason we fell in love with their products in the first place– that unique DNA was lost. For example, Pfaff has stopped designing machines with their front-loading bobbin system. Modern Singer machines are less reliable than their 70 year-old featherweight ancestors. Viking is no longer the innovator they once were, and their modern machines are notorious for electronic issues. And, worst of all, SVP Worldwide doesn’t even make parts to support their older machines anymore. If your old Pfaff needs a part replaced, you have to hope that we have an old Pfaff in our Boneyard that we can harvest the part from. The same goes for Viking and Singer.     Try as I might, I could not get hard or soft numbers on how many Singer Sewing Machines were sold in 2023, so it’s difficult to examine just how badly the constant mergers and change of hand have affected their current bottom line – what little of it is left.  I can leave you with my own reflections.    When my home economic teachers were searching for sewing machines for us to use way back in the mid-to-late 1970’s, Singer was not on their list.  Too many issues, too many problems.  I think they finally chose White, if memory serves me correctly – which also had their share of problems.  I blame those machines on my detestation of any sewing until the early 1980’s when I had access to a good sewing machine.    It hurts a little, to know that such a good product had such a sorry ending.  For years, Singer not only eased women’s burdens, but also supplied jobs and incomes for countless families, not to mention the businesses which sprang up to support Singer and its employees.  Nostalgia has a way of wistfully making you want to go back to a time when things were supposedly simpler and better.  Every time I sit down behind my Featherweight I realize I hold a little history in my hands – the history of a machine which had its beginnings at the Kilbowie factory and somehow made its way to a quilter in Jamestown, North Carolina.  A history which will probably not be repeated in anyone’s lifetime.  Just goes to show – don’t take anything or anyone for granted.  Tomorrow it could be sold, subsidized, taken over, or shut down.  Now excuse me while I go hug my Featherweight.   Until Next Week, From My Studio to Yours,   Love and Stitches, Sherri and Felix