Kate Flora: I don’t think that I’ve confessed my fondness for buttons here before. I’m not a
collector. I don’t have a nice stack of reference books handy to teach me about buttons–their history, materials, etc, or their value. I do sometimes think that someday I will write a mystery featuring a button collector. I’m thinking about buttons today because a kind family member who knows me well gave me a container of buttons for Christmas. (An aside here…I am always happy to take that button box you don’t know what to do with off your hands.)
What I like about buttons is two-fold. First, I like to sort buttons. Sorting buttons, like ironing, is a very peaceful activity. It’s something I can do while I’m puzzling about a plot, or when the latest book I’m reading disappoints, or when, like today, it is cold and damp and foggy outside. They can be sorted by size, or by color, or by sets, or by buttons that are very different from the others.
Second, poking around in old button boxes can spark an interesting game of: When were these popular? On what sort of garment were they worn and who wore it? On the shelf where I’ve stacked up all the boxes and tins that hold my buttons, I have my grandmother’s button box, a funny old wooden box that used to hold laundry starch. It is only about a third full now, but back when I first discovered it in my mother’s attic, it was full, and sometimes friends and I, or my sister and I, would spend a happy afternoon sorting buttons.
The prettiest ones, or the ones with most interesting shapes or designs, might get sorted into sets and sewn onto cardboard index cards. That box had a lot of black, fabric covered buttons from a time when buttons were the primary mode of fastening clothes and clothes used a lot of them. There were also a lot of small black jet buttons and many small round buttons that must have gone on shoes.
In time, I inherited my mother’s button box, a purple metal candy tin. I still search it today when I need a button for a blouse or my husband’s pants or shorts. Because it is from my childhood, I can find buttons there that were left over from my 4-H sewing projects, or the suit my mother made to wear for church. In another box, I have buttons from sewing projects I did for my own boys–tiny ducks or dinosaurs. There are also some of the small weights that were sewn into women’s suits to make the hems hang right.
In my Christmas tin, there were three tiny handprinted wooden duck buttons, and four wooden buttons with psychedelic patterns. Some odd shaped white buttons that must have gone on a dress or a blouse. A single black spangled button. It also contained a lot of buttons with eagles and other insignia suggested military, or military-style clothes. And of course, fabric covered buttons that tell me what kinds of fabrics and prints the owner wore.
Glad you enjoyed them
I sure did.
I love buttons, too. I used to have an antique shop so I accumulated a nice collection and when I closed the shop I kept those that I didn’t sell. When I used to travel I would try and find unique ones.
And where do they live now? Do you take them out and play with them?
I have an old bale top Mason jar from my mother-in-law’s canning cupboard. It’s almost filed with all the buttons I saved from scrapped clothing. When my granddaughter was small she would spend many visits with the but-Tons. They were cool and slippery and multi sized and shaped. They made soft sounds when you ran your fingers through them on the rug. There were certain special ones she’d look for every playtime…a little hand painted sunflower, 3 cats, a big black one with rhinestones from my mum’s car coat and for some reason known only to her two worn green ones from her granddad’s army overcoat of which she was not familiar with their history. She no longer plays with the buttons but the memories linger.
Sounds wonderful!
What a fun post. I inherited from my grandmother not only her early 20th century Singer sewing machine but also a “notions cabinet” one of her brothers-in-law made for her. In addition to having spindles for spools of thread and deep pockets to hold trimmings, it contains a series of jars, the lids screwed into the level above, and all of them are full to the brim with buttons. I’m not much of a button saver myself, but I do have an antique hair receiver that is the repository for a collection of the “spare button” packets that always used to come with dress shirts and a few other garments.
I also have an antique hair receiver. Two, actually. A ceramic on that matches a hand painted dresser set, and a glass one with a silver Art Nouveau lid.
Finally, someone else who finds ironing relaxing!
Your buttons are fabulous. Always a treat to see them in second hand and antique stores.
Indeed. You wouldn’t know it to see my to be ironed pile, but I do like ironing. Getting to smooth out those wrinkles is amazing. I guess many people these days use steamers, but it doesn’t have the same magic.
I also have my grandmother’s button box.
Terry0743@aol.com
I, too, inherited BOTH grandmothers’ button collections. I’m sure they kept them for replacing an outfit’s lost button, but I must admit I have rarely used any. I DID sort them…mostly by color. They are in my sewing room (in a corner of my basement), and will probably be thrown out when I pass away. I have used them on occasion…used the gold ones to help “spiff up” my grandsons’ pirate costumes one Halloween. Love your books and postings! Deb from Winslow
I don’t know if you heard this story. John and I decided to take a day to stop at second hand and antique stores to search for buttons for you for Christmas. The first place we stopped had all kinds of buttons, but they were separated into little plastic envelopes, a whole wall of them. We both chose our favorites and planned on emptying them into a jar. As we passed an antique store on our way home, on a whim, we decided to stop. We turned around and went back. I asked the owner if he had any buttons, in a jar, or tin, or even loose. His reply, “I think I may have one in the barn.” When he came back with an old a tin of buttons, John and I looked in the tin, then at each other, and said, “Perfect!” It turned into a fun outing, and a nice diversion from the worries of the world. I added a few buttons that I found interesting, from my own button jar. Some were mine, my mother’s, my grandmother’s, and some may have even come from your mother’s house. I love the connection with generations of women doing what women do: sewing together, creating together, mending what can be saved, and preserving for a future need. Thank you for the memories shared.