My wife and daughters were gifted a few of these Mini Trader Joe’s tote bags, and I thought it would be a nice touch to add a lining. But instead of stopping there, I decided to make them a little more functional.

Each bag got a zippered top closure, an interior zippered pocket, and a slip pocket. A couple are lined with custom-printed ripstop, while the others use a generic 70D ripstop. I was surprised by how straightforward the project was, and it made these little totes much more practical for everyday use.

As a bonus, it gave me another excuse to sew on my recently restored Singer 201-2. I own several other vintage machines, but this one has quickly become my favorite. It’s smooth, quiet, and somehow always ends up being the machine I reach for first.

What do you all think?

Just saw this on FB marketplace and looks like a good deal. I would absolutely grab if I had space. Posting here in case anyone looking…

Finished restoring these two little Singer 20 toy sewing machines and had an absolute blast working on them.

Based on the handwheel style and other features, they appear to date somewhere between 1914 and 1926. The transformation compared to how they arrived is pretty dramatic.

I used essentially the same process as I did on my recent Singer 201 restoration. All of the nickel-plated parts were cleaned up with a wire wheel and then polished on a bench buffer. The bed plates were a whole different story—I progressively sanded them from 80 grit all the way to 10,000 grit before polishing.

Unfortunately, I got a little too aggressive while sanding and actually rounded off part of one corner of a bed plate. I also chased some of the pitting more than I probably should have. In the end, I decided to leave some of the remaining imperfections alone. They’re over 100 years old, and a little character isn’t the end of the world.

After polishing, I applied a light coat of TR-3 to the bare metal parts to help slow oxidation.

One machine is complete, while the other is still missing the handwheel handle, handle screw, and spool pin. It was also missing the screw that secures the needle bar, but I discovered that an M3 screw fits perfectly. I’m still debating whether to fabricate the missing parts, hunt down originals, or simply leave it as a display piece.

One of the machines also arrived with a bent handwheel stud. I was able to carefully straighten it without breaking it, which felt like a minor miracle considering its age.

And before anyone points it out—yes, the needle is taped together. I’m still waiting for some 24x1 needles to arrive and used a broken needle to get both machines timed and functioning.

What started as a quick cleanup turned into another full teardown, polishing, and reassembly project.

Next up are a Singer 20-10 and a 301.

This hobby is becoming a serious addiction.

Here is a link with more photos:
https://imgur.com/a/phPmTie

TL;DR: Bought a rough 1936 Singer 201-2 a few weeks ago intending to simply clean and service it. Instead, I ended up completely disassembling it, building an electrolysis tank, learning paint correction from YouTube, repairing casting defects, repainting it in midnight blue, applying decals, clear coating, wet sanding, polishing, restoring the original cabinet, breaking a few parts, buying far more tools than planned, and somehow ending up with a machine I'm incredibly proud of.

A few weeks ago I picked up this 1936 Singer 201-2.

My original plan was simple: clean it, service it, and put it back into use.

That plan lasted about a day.

The more I cleaned and inspected the machine, the more obvious it became that the finish was in rough shape. I spent quite a bit of time trying to convince myself not to repaint it because I knew what kind of rabbit hole that could become. Unfortunately, the finish was just too far gone for me to ignore, so I decided to go all in and attempt a full restoration.

At the time, I had never fully disassembled a machine to this extent on my own. Mechanical work doesn't intimidate me much, but paint and body work were completely new territory. I didn't consult any professionals. Most of what I learned came from countless automotive restoration and detailing videos on YouTube and a lot of trial and error.

Disassembly and Stripping

The first challenge was figuring out how to strip the machine.

After a lot of reading and watching videos, I decided to build a homemade electrolysis tank to help remove rust and loosen the old finish. That meant buying a power supply, building the tank, mixing everything up, and hoping for the best.

While it definitely helped, it wasn't nearly as magical as I had hoped.

After the electrolysis bath I still spent countless hours with:

• Wire wheels
• Drill attachments
• Picks
• Scrapers
• Abrasives
• Hand tools

trying to remove every last bit of paint from all the casting recesses and corners.

At several points I questioned whether I should have just found someone to sandblast it.

Repairing the Casting

Once everything was stripped, I discovered something I hadn't expected.

The casting itself was pretty rough.

There were numerous:

• Casting pits
• Voids
• Surface imperfections

that had been hidden by decades of paint.

I used Bondo filler to repair the worst areas and quickly learned that every time I thought I was done, another defect would reveal itself after primer. What followed was an endless cycle of sanding, priming, finding flaws, sanding again, and repeating the process.

Paint System

For anyone curious, I used:

• Rust-Oleum Self-Etching Primer
• Rust-Oleum 2X Satin Midnight Blue
• SprayMax 2K Clear

I know there are better automotive systems available, but I wanted to use products that were reasonably accessible and affordable for a first attempt.

After multiple coats of primer and a lot of sanding, I applied the color coat in several light passes over multiple days.

Patience was by far the hardest part.

Every instinct wanted me to spray heavier coats to speed things up, but every video I watched emphasized building color gradually.

Clear Coat Attempt #1

Once the paint had cured, I applied my first round of SprayMax 2K clear.

This is where I learned that clear coat can be both amazing and incredibly frustrating.

I ended up with:

• Dust nibs
• Orange peel
• A few runs
• Random debris embedded in the finish

The finish wasn't terrible, but it wasn't good enough for me to leave alone.

So I wet sanded much of the machine and eventually applied another light coat of clear before moving on to decals.

Decals

The decals turned out to be one of the easier parts of the project.

Ironically, cutting them out accurately was harder than actually applying them.

I had expected the decal application itself to be the stressful part, but they went on surprisingly well.

After applying the decals, I waited several days before applying more clear.

Unfortunately, because I waited longer than planned, my original can of SprayMax 2K was no longer usable. That meant buying a second can just to finish the project.

Clear Coat Attempt #2

The second round of clear went much better.

Not perfectly, of course.

I still managed to collect:

• Dust
• Small runs
• A few imperfections

but by this point I had accepted that I was painting in a garage, not a professional paint booth.

I finally reached the point where I felt comfortable letting everything cure and moving on.

Polishing

After allowing the clear coat to cure for about a month, I started polishing.

Initially I thought I had ruined the finish.

I had wet sanded portions of the machine with 2000-3000 grit and was struggling to remove the sanding marks. The polishing compound I started with simply wasn't aggressive enough.

After a lot of frustration, I switched compounds and started working through the finish with a mini polisher and foam pads.

That was the moment everything finally came together.

The deep blue color started to come alive and the finish developed the depth and gloss I had been chasing for weeks.

After weeks of staring at a dull, sanded machine and wondering if I had made a huge mistake, finally seeing the color and gloss emerge was incredibly satisfying.

The Setbacks

No restoration project would be complete without a few disasters.

Along the way I managed to:

• Chip paint during assembly
• Damage the finish with pliers while installing hardware
• Break a hook retaining screw
• Spend way too much time searching for replacement hardware
• Learn that assembly can be just as dangerous to a finish as painting

Every time I thought I was finished, I found something else that needed attention.

The Cabinet

I also restored the original Cabinet #48 during this project.

Rather than making this post even longer, I already created a separate post covering that restoration in detail and will link it below.

The short version is that I originally planned to use chemical stripper, but after researching it for days I realized I had absolutely no idea what I was doing and was worried about making a mess indoors.

So I ended up stripping most of it manually, using scrapers, an orbital sander, and a lot of patience.

For the finish I used Tried & True hard wax oil and was extremely happy with the results.

Ironically, the cabinet restoration went much smoother than the machine restoration.

The Cost

One thing I completely underestimated was how much stuff I would end up buying along the way.

The machine itself wasn't particularly expensive, but the restoration certainly wasn't free.

I found myself constantly purchasing tools, supplies, and materials that I didn't own when I started, including:

• Power supply for the electrolysis tank
• Materials to build the electrolysis tank
• Wire wheels
• Abrasives and sandpaper
• Bondo and filler supplies
• Rust-Oleum primer and paint
• Multiple cans of SprayMax 2K clear
• Orbital sander
• Bench polisher for small parts
• Mini polisher for the machine
• Buffing compounds
• Polishing pads
• Electrical supplies
• Replacement wiring
• Miscellaneous hardware
• Parts that I broke and eventually replaced by purchasing an entire donor machine

At some point I stopped keeping track because I didn't really want to know the answer.

Let's just say the machine may have been the cheapest part of the project.

The funny thing is that many of those purchases weren't actually for this machine. They were investments in learning new skills and acquiring tools that I'll continue using on future projects.

If I had to do another machine tomorrow, I could probably complete it for significantly less money because I already own most of the equipment.

By the end of this project I had essentially built a small restoration shop around a Singer sewing machine.

What I Learned

A few lessons from this adventure:

• Patience matters more than skill.
• Most mistakes can be fixed.
• Dust will find its way into your paint no matter what.
• Runs are not the end of the world.
• Sanding and polishing are where the magic happens.
• Assembly can damage a finish just as quickly as painting.
• There is an unbelievable amount of knowledge available from people willing to share their experiences online.

Most importantly:

Don't be afraid to try.

When I started this project I had never fully disassembled a 201, never built an electrolysis tank, never done body filler work, never applied waterslide decals, and never cut and polished a 2K finish.

I made mistakes at nearly every stage of this project and still ended up with a machine I'm incredibly proud of.

Final Thoughts

Looking back at the photos of where this machine started, I'd do this project all over again in a heartbeat.

Would I repaint another machine?

Honestly, I'm not sure.

This project took far longer than I ever expected and tested my patience repeatedly.

That said, if I ever decide to tackle another one, I feel much more prepared than I did when I started.

For anyone considering restoring a vintage Singer: give it a shot. It may not be perfect, but bringing one of these incredible machines back to life is incredibly rewarding.

Thanks to my very patient and understanding wife and to everyone here who answered questions, shared advice, and helped me through the inevitable moments of self-inflicted panic.

For anyone interested, I've included links below to the cabinet restoration, my original "should I paint this thing?" post, and a larger album with additional photos from the process.

Cabinet restoration:
https://www.reddit.com/r/vintagesewing/comments/1s7e6j8/1936_singer_cabinet_48_restoration/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Original post before painting:
https://www.reddit.com/r/vintagesewing/comments/1sa4kj2/painting_my_singer_201/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Additional photos:
https://imgur.com/a/8J5mBkp

It's been a few weeks since I've sewn anything, mostly because I've been spending all my free time restoring a recently acquired Singer 201-2. The good news is that the machine turned out beautifully and sews like an absolute dream, so I figured it was time to make sure I hadn't forgotten how to use it.

First up is a padded desk mat for my wife's workspace. It's made from cotton with fusible fleece and a layer of quilting batting for extra cushioning. I added a grippy backing to help keep it from sliding around on the desk. Simple project, but it turned out really well and is already getting daily use.

The second project is a Kindle sleeve with a small front pocket. Overall, I'm happy with how it came out, but I completely forgot to add zipper tabs before sewing everything together, so the zipper ends look a little wonky. Lesson learned for next time.

The exterior is a custom-printed ripstop, lined with HyperD 300, and padded with foam for a bit of protection. Despite the zipper oversight, it does exactly what I wanted it to do.

Nothing groundbreaking here, but it felt good to get back behind the machine and make a couple of useful items.

Amazing how quickly you forget little details like zipper tabs after taking a few weeks off.

Hello everyone, I’m almost done with my restoration! I have a quick question. Does the 201-2 have this almost knocking sound when sewing? Is this considered normal?

I ask because this sound seems much more pronounced when compared to my 15-91.

Thank you!

I recently visited a Habitat for Humanity store for the first time and stumbled upon this 301A. It requires some oil, grease, and rust removal, but it appears to be in decent condition.

I believe it’s an excellent deal at $40. It also includes a stool.

Could you please identify the specific cabinet version? I noticed that the drawer for the Queen Anne cabinet looks different.

This 301A now makes up my fourth vintage cabinet (15-91, 237, 201-2).

Which would you pick and what would be a fair price? Currently relying on non-walking foot machines for my myog needs.