by Miriam E. Waters
Did your mother or grandmother keep a “button jar?” It’s a place to store all those loose buttons that appear in the laundry, on the floor, or inherited from mother or grandmother … I suspect that the practice was in response to Depression-era frugality. I find it interesting.
Did your mother or grandmother keep a “button jar?” It’s a place to store all those loose buttons that appear in the laundry, on the floor, or inherited from mother or grandmother … I suspect that the practice was in response to Depression-era frugality. I find it interesting.
I have two “button jars.” The first is actually a decorative box and a companion ceramic jar. It holds all of those “extra” buttons that come with new clothes or all those buttons that have somehow liberated themselves from their clothing and wait in limbo to be reunited. This is the more civilized of the two “jars” – I know where the buttons belong, but haven’t had a need to repair the offending article of clothing to repatriate the errant button.
The second “jar” was until this morning an actual jar – a gallon blue plastic jar half-way full of buttons and other bits of stuff. I don’t remember where the jar came from or its’ contents originated. I contributed to the blue jar and filled it with the odds and ends of buttons collected by others. I may have inherited some … others I picked up at garage sales and wherever … I have no memory of this, but there is the jar, so it must be true.
I like buttons … they come in a range of colors and shapes so they are useful when I want to add eyes or decorations to one of my projects. I collect “blue jar” buttons because I never know when one might be needed.
The “blue jar” came out of storage this weekend after I picked up a small bag of buttons at a garage sale. I sorted through the bag trying to find sets of matching buttons for future projects. This sort of activity appeals to me in the same way that sorting coins, jigsaw puzzle pieces, and trading cards appeals to me. I tied the sets of matching buttons together and set the “one-of-a-kind” buttons aside to be added to the “blue jar.”
I was in the mood to continue sorting and so after 30+ years decided it was time to take a look at what the “blue jar” held. It was an interesting exercise. The majority of the buttons were white, but I also found many colored and metallic buttons in the stew. I found bingo chips, snaps, buttons with angels on them, wooden buttons, wooden beads, and two ceramic beads – one with the letter “P” and one with the letter “I” … did they come from something useful or were they just leftovers? “Pi” or something more pedestrian? By far the most unusual and disturbing discovery was a tooth. Creepy.
The “blue jar” buttons have a new home in a storage unit comprised of little bins (once meant for screws and hardware). The bins are over-flowing and ready to be mined for future treasures to finish off one of my projects. Perhaps I’ll tackle my “extra” button box and jar sometime before another 30 years passes.
June 16, 2014. All Rights Reserved.
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