ON THE FOLD: Timing is Everything

Seems like March is the time I buy sewing machines. In March 2024, I bought my Singer Start 1306, and after much hemming and hawing, in March 2025, I bought my first overlocker also called a serger.

The machine wasn’t really on my radar until I saw a knit skirt and shirt that Lorenza the Label had made. It was such a lovely cream colour that I knew I had to make it for myself in grey or blue. Me and white don’t do well together. There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell it would survive minutes without some sort of stain on it.

I’ve learned a lot from Lorenza and one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned from her is to make a mock up. As a writer, I’d consider it the first draft. Possibly in the same fabric style and weight of the end game result and if not, make it in a calico. I had purchased a meter of gray ribbed knit to make the cuff, collar, and waist band skirt and shirt but the ribbed knit was off in colour and just sucked overall in texture and feel that I decided to use it as a mock up.

I had never sewn with knit before, which I probably should have researched more before I decided to make these two pieces. And if you read the debut piece of On the Fold, you’ll recall that my neurodivergent brain doesn’t necessarily follow the rules. After lots of trial and error, I finally asked for an opinion from Lorenza herself.

How do you finish a knit hem without an overlocker?

She suggested a zig zag stitch. Which I could do on my Singer machine. It would essentially be a fake “overlock” seam. But she also said, get an overlocker.

The ribbed gray knit and I battled it out with a fake “overlock” seam until I caved and bought an overlocker.

From the moment I took it out of the box, I had issues with the damn machine. A lot of people have threading issues, and I thankfully did not have that, but I had every other issue known to the overlocking gods. Tension, thread snapping, needle breaking, and so on.

After one eventful attempt to fix a knit sweater for Lola, the machine jammed and had a melt down. And if I’m honest, so did I. Probably the second or third overlocker melt down since I bought the machine in March. I was beginning to think I had wasted good money on a piece of junk.

I unjammed the machine, replaced the broken needles, rethreaded everything and ran a piece of cotton test fabric through it. The needles snapped like twigs and so did my mind. I turned the machine off and left it untouched for weeks. Just looking at it made me sick. I had decided that I had wasted $300 on a machine that was pure junk.

For those that know my dad, he’s a fixer. There isn’t anything this man hasn’t fixed or can’t fix. He’ll just take it apart and find what’s wrong and get it working again, and I must say, I am a proud product of my father, because I too am the same way. When my Singer started snapping thread for no reason, I took it apart to find a nested ball of broken thread jamming the machine. Nothing a deep clean and oiling couldn’t fix, and the machine runs smoothly again. I figured if I could take the standard sewing machine apart, I could do the same for the overlocker. Maybe I could salvage my wasted money before I even thought about going to a specialist.

The weeks of seething at the machine and away from it gave me the space I needed to approach the situation differently. Before I was full of hatred and disappointment for the overlocker, now, weeks later, I was clear headed and determined to figure out what the hell was wrong with it come hell or high water.

The time between hatred and clear headed was needed. If I had tried to fix the machine in a bout of anger, I would have probably broken it even more. With a fresh mind, I figured out what was wrong with it.

I had broken a chaining needle on the plate from when I angrily and frustratingly ripped, tugged, pulled, and begged for the dog sweater to unjam itself. If I didn’t break it, I sure as hell didn’t help the situation by angrily attacking it.

With new needles in, I sat down and watched the mechanics of the machine. Something was wrong but what? At first, I thought the needles were in wrong and watched a video about making sure the needle screws weren’t completely tightened on one before the other was inserted. And while this did help a bit, something was still off. My machine always had a clicking noise and I never paid it much mind because I had never owned an overlocker before so I assumed that was how it was suppose to sound brand new out of the box, but now with the machine stripped down to the metal, I realised that clicking sound was metal against metal. It reminded me of a brake pad grinding down and I knew that wasn’t a good sign.

Turns out sewing machines and especially overlockers have timing on them. Things need to be in a certain spot and at a certain time to work. My lower looper was hitting the needles and snapping them. That was the metal against metal I was hearing. If the lower looper wasn’t hitting the needles, it was snapping their threads. Neither was suppose to be happening.

Timing is everything on a sewing machine and in life. I’m glad I got frustrated and walked away from the machine instead of worsening the situation with my anger. It was a lesson I needed. Again, with a clear head, I went to the good ol’ internet and researched how to fix the issue. While a sort of panic and the ‘I can’t fix this’ mindset tried to set in, I had to kindly remind myself that I had fixed the timing car engines and that the sewing machine was similar to an engine minus fuel and combustion. Maybe the sewing machine had more sharp edges but the principle was the same.

And I fixed it. For the first time since I unboxed the beast, the machine ran smoothly and quietly. It had been fucked from the moment I took it out of the box, but now it sews pretty overlocked edges.

If you have bought the Semco Sewlock 42D Overlocker from Spotlight and need a new needle plate search for the following: