Vintage

You can't go wrong with vintage, whether its buttons or roses. In this instance it's both. My grandmother's vintage buttons (mismatched of course) and a dozen ivory roses courtesy of my sister. The roses arrived this afternoon at an opportune time. My sister dropped them off at the high school office while I was doing a combo sub job: half the day German, the other half choir. The sweater beside the blossoms has been a long time coming. Finally: my Blue Sky Alpaca Eyelet Cardigan.

As I alluded to above, the buttons were a gift from my grandmother. I wish I had a photo of the button jar that I hunted them out of. Are there any others out there who know the thrill of scrabbling through a pile of buttons looking for the perfect set? You find four that match, but the fifth is elusive and you have to make a creative decision: abandon your choice or go for slightly mismatched. I don't know if you can tell, but I choose slightly mismatched. The buttons are all shell with different edgings. One of my grandmother's maxims is to never throw away a button, I think I'm going to assume that maxim as well.

All of the buttons I choose still had bits of string and knots woven through them. Scraps of polyester and lace that I had to cut away. I wonder what garment they came from and where she wore it? I don't think anyone else will notice my mismatched, vintage buttons. They will be my secret. (Well, mine, and my grandmother's.)