The first thing that I noticed about Jackie was her necklace. It was spun from strands of fine beige yarn, three or four or more criss-crossing threads each strung with buttons and worn close to the neck choker style. Every button was a different colour from its neighbour – pale pinky pinks to sky vapour blues, soft sage greens to earth cool ochres – each round, and perhaps the size of a penny piece. Smaller than coat buttons, certainly, but larger than pearly shirt fastenings; maybe the size for the waistband of a pair of trousers or a skirt, or a child’s dress.When I’d first met Jackie last week, she’d told me she was 51 in conversation but I think could easily pass for ten years younger. A handsome woman is how my Gran would have described her: tall, shoulder length blonde hair, bold soft smiling features and the slim strong muscular stature of someone who has been involved in sports all her life.
We sat down with our cups of coffee at a quiet table in the refectory and I admired her button necklace.
“Oh, I love buttons,” she said, “Always have. My girls tease me about it at home. Nearly all of my clothes have buttons on them somewhere.”
“I bet that you inherited your Gran’s button box.”
Jackie’s mouth opened with surprise. “How did you know that? Yes, I did inherit her button box. I loved playing with it when I was a little girl. Still do. But how did you know?”
Well I didn’t know it for sure, but took a guess. I think that most women of my age or more - and maybe some who are younger too - will have memories of Granny’s button box. Of rainy Saturday afternoons spent hunting for elusive matching pairs. Or stringing like with like on spindly tangled sewing cotton. Or of being given the serious task of choosing the closest match for Granddad’s fraying work shirt cuffs. Of putting on the lid and shaking the tin like a giant castanet. Of counting, sorting, plucking out fluff, removing old knots of yesterday’s yarn. Of two holes, three holes, four holes, toggles, hoops and loops, wooden, bone, plastic, metal, horn, thread balls, cloth topped and satin covered. Of picking them up in child-sized handfuls and letting the buttons cascade through the fingers like a pirate’s precious golden bounty.
Someone in every generation has to be the keeper of the family buttons. It’s just the way things are.
I inherited Grandpa's button box. He was a tailor. They were mostly dull colours but it started a love affair with buttons!
ReplyDeleteMany of my pre-school days were spent in the care of my grandmother and I, too, have vast experience in the world of grandmotherly tasks. It probably will be of no surprise to you that when in my hands, her buttons often formed two distinct lines in mock military confrontations.
ReplyDeleteI also became quite adept at replacing buttons on my own shirts, a skill which came in handy when I was a young man. The Marine Corps issues (at least once did) a small sewing kit and expects one to use it with near-religious fervor should a button go missing or a small rip develop in a uniform. Grandmother was a drill instructor even though she never knew it.
You continue to stir up old memories for me, Katy.
I am so suprised that you wrote a piece on Button Boxes. I was only thinking about them myself last week. My son had lost the button on his trousers and I didn't have one to match. I was telling my neighbour about the problem and she came round later with her family button box for me to sort through for a match. It was really strange to go through someone elses unfamiliar button box seeing all the left over buttons from another families past. I also felt very privilaged that I had been trusted with their treasured button box. Kim
ReplyDeleteHi Katy :) I love buttons too! When I was a little girl we used to go with my grandma to the button store...floor to ceiling chockablock full of beautiful buttons! I still have a little button shaped like a strawberry that my grandma sewed on my favorite dress. Funny the things that we cherish :)
ReplyDeleteHave a Happy Day, Katy!
That's wonderful about your Grandpa's button box, Cat! Do you still use some of his tailor's buttons or have you added your own to his collection?
ReplyDeleteGreat to see you here, thank you for visiting.
Gradmother's buttons in military manoeuvres Fram? A Marine even from the earliest days. I didn't use them for battles, but sometimes for betting chips in childish games of rummy or pontoon with my Granddad.
ReplyDeleteI wonder if the Marine Corps still issues their new recruits with a sewing kit? I certainly remember that some of my Granddad's friends were great at needlework from their time in the armed forces.
Hello Kim, great to see you here. It's wonderful that your neighbour leant her button box to fix your son's trousers. When I used to play with my Gran's button box, I would always try to imagine the clothes that the buttons had come from in the first place. Button boxes are a real treasure trove in lots of ways, aren't they?
ReplyDeleteThat button store sounds wonderful Kelly! Must have been an amazing sight and a great day out with your Grandma. Lovely that you still have your strawberry-shaped button too. Some things are just very precious I think.
ReplyDeleteWhen my sister was a baby, I remember someone knitting her some little cardigans, one with ladybird buttons on it and the other with tiny yellow duckling buttons.
Hope you're having a great day too :-)