Rachel – I should tell you, this kind of coat doesn't have buttons. See? Hooks and eyes.
John - Something wrong with buttons?
Rachel - Buttons are proud and vain, not plain.
And I think she may be right. It is possible to become inordinately fascinated by buttons. Floss, for one, understands this, I know.
My friend Kath gave me a bag recently, of about 1000 buttons. I spent a whole hour sorting them out, when I probably ought to have been doing other more productive tasks. But they are so lovely!
I sorted them by colours into my six IKEA glasses which were nearby [I won’t be able to drink from them again till I re-home the buttons!]
Blues and purples, browns and greys, reds and pinks, blacks and golds, white and pearls, yellows and greens.
I love these textured white ones – some are vintage Bakelite or similar material I think. These coloured ones too are really pretty[look at that tiny pale green shell, centre right!]
And these have such lovely variations in colour.
I must find some really interesting projects to make good use of this generous gift!
Meanwhile, my friend Alyson tells me that at Charlecote Park there is currently an art installation involving buttons. [Alyson saw it, and thought of me!]
It was created by Alfreda McHale and is called ‘Seeking Pearls’ The website says “Jars of buttons and threads are assembled on shelves in the Laundry so that, at ﬁrst glance, they could be mistaken for sweets in an old-fashioned sweet shop. The viewer is free to touch and play and becomes a participant in the work: you can decide how you want to sort your bowl of buttons and where you want to put your jar. As you sort and play you can lose yourself in memories and associations. Your reasons for sorting buttons one way or another may be transparent (colour, form, type) or may remain private and personal (‘my mum had some like this’).”
Do buttons fascinate you too?
Have you got a button jar or button tin?