One of the day’s errands involved returning many overdue books to the library in Central Lake. A bonus was discovering the current showcase exhibit: a button collection. Buttons in jars, buttons in a box that had held lavendar soaps, buttons sewed onto patchwork angel wings . . . I was completely captivated.
My mother kept a button jar. Many button jars, along with boxes and baskets and tins. She was a creative fabric artist and costume designer, though she didn’t think of herself that way. Buttons were her inspiration.
Once she found a pale bronze button with a stylized leaf design. Just one. Then she found a linen fabric in a swirling green and bronze leaf pattern, a length of soft green silk lining, another in shimmering bronze rayon. She made me a sheath – remember the sheath dress? – and a coordinating coat that closed with a single tab, buttoned with that leaf button. It was the most sophisticated ensemble I ever wore, and I loved it.
If I still had it, and the slender figure that went with it, I could wear it today. Well, OK, not in Torch Lake Township, where I have an entirely different kind of life, but in the city. It astonishes me to remember that I ever wore such things, but I did. I wore it to my very first opera: Leontyne Price in Aida at the Masonic Temple in Detroit. A memorable evening all the way around.
A simple thing, a button jar. Filled with stories.
Torch Lake Views 
Anna Surface
January 3, 2010
I have a button jar. I just like looking at the jar filled with various buttons. I once created a button mosaic with old buttons. Really, there are some fascinating buttons and unique ones too. I like buttons. LOL Button fascination. 🙂
Gerry
January 3, 2010
I have a button jar, too, even though I don’t really sew. (We all remember my inept attempt to hem my pants, right?) I think button jars begin because we’re frugal – someday we might need to replace a button, and then we’ll have one that will more or less do. But then . . . something about this button or that sneaks up on us. I like to paw through my stash, remembering a favorite coat or a blouse I hated or a sweater that belonged to Rob the Firefighter a long, long time ago. Buttons.
Cindy Lou
January 3, 2010
I love button jars, button bags, button tins….I have my Gramma’s and it’s a treasure. I like the button mosaic idea, Anna…keep thinking I should do something creative with them!
Gerry
January 3, 2010
Ah. The terrible “shoulds.” My friend Carol the Chaplain says she’s pretty sure there’s another Commandment: “Thou shalt not should thyself.” You’ll do something creative with the buttons the day you think, “Oh, that would be fun!” Then you’ll dump out the button jar on the dining table and splash about happily in the treasure all morning, leaving the dishes in the sink and the paperwork scattered on the desk.
flandrumhill
January 3, 2010
A few years ago I raided my button jar and used the nicest ones to decorate a cloth mandala I made to fit into a quilting hoop. It hangs on the wall in my grandson’s bedroom. When he was a toddler he used to enjoy sitting with me and tracing his fingers over the buttons while I held the hoop in front of him.
A couple of years ago I also used them to decorate a heap of tea cozies. They have lots of uses, none too practical but it does get them out of the box!
My favorites have always been the opalescent ones made of bits of shell.
Gerry
January 3, 2010
It amazes me that opening the button jar has led to all these memories. You have wonderful ideas. A mandala . . . I love the idea of the quilting hoop as a frame. I love the idea of a grandchild exploring the buttons. Reminds me of sitting on my grandma’s lap.
I’ll bet the minute you finished that comment you went off to look at your button collection, especially those opalescent shell ones . . .
p.j. grath
January 3, 2010
Thanks for the memories. My mother kept a button box. It was a Whitman sampler box, and I loved to open it and make “families” with the buttons, finding husband-and-wife combinations and all kinds of children. Some families had only one, two or three children; others had sets of twins or triplets. Great fun!
We would all love to see a photo of you in that sheath. ???
Gerry
January 3, 2010
I love the game you describe. I believe I’ll play it with my Associate Grandchildren the next time an opportunity presents itself.
I would love a photo of me in that sheath, too, but I suspect there isn’t one. It would probably look less glamorous than I remember, particularly as I’m pretty sure I would be wearing my cat-eye glasses with dramatically upswept wings. Ah youth.
p.j. grath
January 3, 2010
Shouldn’t “enjoying” count as doing something with something?
Gerry
January 3, 2010
Absolutely.
uphilldowndale
January 3, 2010
Oh Gerry, I have a magical button box, well a tin actually, it is worthy of a post. I loved the contents of that tin a a child and I love it now. It has boot buttons and even a button with the name of the village embossed on it. My family were dress makers and milliners they took pride in a button box. My mum however likes sewing just as much as you; so the contents have been preserved for a generation.
In my Christmas mail came an invitation to a button jewellery workshop, take your button box along and make new jewels…….. I want to go, but will I diminish that box and it’s history be taking out the button ‘jewels’? I’m torn (but I will confess to having made a few broaches already out of big coat buttons (circa 1930) and clusters of mother of pearl buttons.
just look what you have taken the lid off!
Gerry
January 3, 2010
My ears are pinned back – or perhaps buttoned back – in wonder and amazement. I was almost embarrassed to post this little digression, and look how it has resonated.
All of this confirms my belief that it is the small details of life that hold the truest stories. Boot buttons! A family of dressmakers and milliners! I am delighted. All over the blogosphere I can hear the faint clicking sound as the contents of button jars and tins and boxes are poured out and sorted . . . Ah, I remember that . . . This was always my favorite . . .
Molly
January 3, 2010
My mom had a button box – I remember making necklaces with thread and all the buttons when I was a girl. Then everything went back in the box, because, yes – we might need one of those buttons.
Then when I grew up, I kept a button box. Last year, we moved and now the box is bereft of its buttons. I have been lying awake at night wondering where they could possibly be. Did I stash them somewhere when we moved? Or did Someone Dispose Of Them Without My Approval? I haven’t found them yet, and I am bereft, too.
There is something about a button box, jar, tin. Thanks for reminding me.
Gerry
January 3, 2010
I’m so glad you liked the story, Molly! I am deeply suspicious that a button misappropriation may have occurred at your house. Once upon a time, a long time ago, a certain Someone Disposed of My Cookie Cutter Collection Without My Approval. Thank goodness the button jar was spared.
I have a suggestion. Start a new button collection. Ask all your friends to send you just one button from their own collections. Judging by the response to this post, they’ll all look sheepish and they’ll all cough up. Pretty soon you’ll be in good shape again. And, um, hide the button box from the Misappropriator.
creativepotager
January 3, 2010
I wish I still had my button jar. It went missing in a move. Loved your story Gerry.
Gerry
January 3, 2010
You see – another mysterious disappearance during a move! There is a fiendish pattern here. You and Molly should compare notes. (I’m glad you liked the story!)