Who doesn’t remember one of these from their childhood. Decades of buttons, scraps of clothing from half-remembered dresses. mother of pearl, metal, wood, fabric and wool and plastic. Sets of white shirt buttons and alphabet letters from making a grandchild’s cardigan. Bucklies and a thimble. The colours, shapes and textures. Little pink ones for a delicate cardigan, great big brown ones from a winter coat. Sparkly ones and black shiny jet. Sweet ones for babies. Brass ones and tiny press-studs and fasteners.Embroidered ones and ugly ones.
Buttons for make do and mend. Buttons saved for a special occasion or treasured from that special outfit.
I remember the tin, the roses and flowers on the top and that bright blue. Getting the button box out was always a treat. Rainy afternoons spent sorting and playing, making families from them. Now I sometimes use them in my work. I can see the seeds of that in this button box, therapy with buttons. here it is written more academically Click on the link: Buttons in therapy or in this book : Button Therapy
Most of all I liked sorting them. Colours, shape, size, type. Each has its own special character. Each reminds me of something. Each is in there for a reason, everything was saved, anything might ‘come in useful one day’. Signs of the times, a legacy of growing up in War Years and with rationing. Making your own clothes and remaking old clothes into something new and special with a set of fancy buttons or a bit of trim or ribbon. Now they are mine and I will add my collection to them. We will never need to buy a button again!