It's true that I've self-imposed a typewriter collecting moratorium (recently and briefly suspended only because a holy grail-style typewriter came along); however, there remains a list of random typewriters I admire, and may some day acquire:
The Remington Quiet-Riter
I don't own any Remingtons. I am certain I have never even typed on one. I usually recognize any kind of Royal, Olympia, or Hermes on the spot, but Remingtons remain vague, that off-brand of car you've never driven or owned. The whole brand to me seems nondescript, I routinely click past Remingtons when rummaging eBay search results, save for the Quiet Riter, which sports a stubby, stylized, VW sort of look, and that delightfully misspelled brand name (a common quirk of typewriter nomenclature in general, this). Something tells me this might be my kind of typewriter, although I can't put my finger on exactly why. (Relatedly, is there really a pink Remington Noiseless? I want it.)
Smith-Corona Silent/Silent Super
I'm not real clear on the variations within this particular line, I just know I like the stripes, and everyone keeps saying they are so damned great. I can't sit around hearing how damned great a typewriter is from every typewriter guy on the interweb without eventually wanting to try it for myself, which is how I ended up with an SM9 (not a typewriter that would ordinarily have jumped off the shelf at me, because it's as ugly as sin).
Pink Royal Quiet De Luxe
I already have a RQDL, and it's handsome and everything, but my inner 12-year-old-girl really wants a pink one, which I know I'll never get, because the bidding is always too high on the darned things, and I've spent too much at this point already. But I want one! I want an Oompa Loompa now! Wait, did someone say that there are also pink Silent-Supers? Is a pink typewriter the next holy grail?
70's Smith Corona Super Sterling
I went and wrote this soppy post awhile ago about My First Typewriter, the Smith Corona Galaxie 12, and later realized I would be a terrible witness should I ever be called to the stand, because my memories of my inaugural typewriter were completely false. Any superficial perusal of the photograph in which my original machine appears would immediately clarify that it was a Smith Corona Super Sterling, and yes, I want another one in that exact shade of rhinoceros gray so I can re-live the glory of my tween writing years, when I sat about typing romance novellas about Huey Lewis.
Some day I'll go back and issue a retraction of that post and its many lies.
Underwood 5
You can only be told so many times that standard typewriters are vastly superior to every scrap of tin in your crappy portable collection before you begin to daydream of a luxurious personal office, complete with ocean view, full of unlimited, rolling vistas of desktop space not shared with your husband's virtual flight yoke thing, the centerpiece of which is a space-hogging, 40 lb standard typewriter, the Underwood 5, a looming pipe-organ of type. Then you realize that your actual office space is a $39 Ikea laptop table called Dave shoved into the corner at the top of the stairs, and there is not even one square inch of space in your house actually devoted exclusively and permanently to your writing pursuits, and so you grudgingly accept that every typewriter you are likely to own will come in a little suitcase with a handle.
That's my list. What's yours?