500,000 buttons
1000s of tiny gold buttons had to be got from China, as none could be found small enough in the UK
Ann Carrington and a Jubilee Buttoned Banner
It took a team of seamstresses 4 months to sew on half a million golden buttons with 31 miles of thread
walking the dog
‘Baby, back,
Dressed in black,
Silver buttons all down her back!’
(Rolling Stones cover of Rufus Thomas song)
Miss Mary Mack
Miss Mary Mack Mack Mack
All dressed in black, black, black,
With silver buttons, buttons, buttons,
All down her back, back, back…
(A clapping game, said by some to originate from the name of an ironclad warship in the American Civil war - Merrimac.)
This is the deck and turret of the ironclad Monitor on James River, 9th July,1862. Note the rivets, or buttons.
buttoning for interdependence: dress reform
There once was a socialist community in 1830s France that ‘devised a uniform for both sexes which buttoned all the way down the back, so as to prevent one getting in and out of it on one’s own, and this to further a sense of their interdependence.’
(David Knutzle, Fashion and Fetishism, 1982)
(Cubicle Chic)
luxury can be plastic
A luxury KP Maclane polo shirt, costing $155, rejected mother-of-pearl buttons - which can broke and chipped on samples - in favour of more durable, and much cheaper plastic ones, costing 3 cents each, rather than $1.
‘We’re calling this the practical approach to luxury,’ says Mr Maclane.
Buttons is not a footstool
“This is the story of Buttons – the Scottish terrier our family had when I was two. The memories I have of Buttons are probably based on images I have seen in my mom’s photo albums, as I was a bit young to remember much from my second year. According to family legend, Buttons was quite a feisty little dog – he used to jump into my father’s newspaper as he was reading the daily news and he also bit into the toaster cord and got a bad shock. Apparently, I was not Buttons’ best friend – although I am told I enjoyed playing with him – I also used him to bring attention to myself. In my defence, I was competing with my newborn brother, so I guess I was desperate.
As the story goes, my mom was elsewhere in the house – perhaps cooking dinner or tending to the meddlesome newborn – my dad was watching me and Buttons in the living room while he relaxed and read the newspaper. I might add that my dad has amazing powers of concentration – he can block out just about anything if he so chooses! Apparently, I decided that Buttons would be a good footstool – Buttons was not agreeable to that idea so he let me know it. My mom heard all the commotion and came to find my dad still reading the paper – oblivious to the whole incident – and me sitting on the floor crying and bleeding from a bite to my head. Poor Buttons, I don’t know where he was, but it really wasn’t his fault.
After that incident, my parents decided they ought to find a safer home for Buttons – it must have been hard for them to give away their dog, but I think they wanted to do what was best for the dog. It was only a matter of time before my younger brother would be running around creating even more havoc than I. Buttons did end up in a home with two other Scotties, so I hope he was happier there! I guess I should be glad my parents gave away the dog rather than me.”
(from Julie Reed, a Button Floozie)
John Clare’s shepherd, ‘buttoning’
(Findon Chronicles, Valerie Martin)
The foddering boy along the crumping snows
With straw-band-belted legs and folded arm
Hastens, and on the blast that keenly blows
Oft turns for breath, and beats his fingers warm,
And shakes the lodging snows from off his clothes,
Buttoning his doublet closer from the storm
