I use a corner of whatever I’m sewing to stick all my pins into while I work. It works fine while I’m repairing something small. Not so great with those bigger projects like hemming curtains, there is a lot of fabric to pin into and those little things can get lost. It’s not an accident that pincushions were invented. Once upon a time pins were more expensive than they are now. The women in those days didn’t want to lose any of them. Not like myself who just thinks I’m risking injury later on when I finally do find that missing pin, in a painful way.
My only pincushions have been a tomato which had been my Aunt Sally’s when I inherited her sewing basket and a plastic thing that was meant to sit on your wrist. I never gave the plastic one much of a try. I just knew I’d never get much done with something on my wrist. But, it was a nice idea as a gift, from someone one Christmas.
I think pincushions are like aprons, very fancy and pretty but mostly practical only in a fashion sense. An apron keeps your fancy dress from getting bacon splatter. A pincushion keeps your pins collected on a pretty little thing. Both practical and yet superfluous too. You can wash your clothes, much easier than your Grandmother could. You can stick your pins onto your sleeve or in a plastic grocery bag while you sew. But, the pincushions are a really sweet and simple craft to make. They can be very detailed with lots of applique and embroidery, crochet or tatted lace too, anything you care to add to that little puff ball for pins.
My Grandmother had a button box. She would add any buttons from clothes that were worn out and being cut up to use for patches and cleaning rags. Sometimes she bought sets of 4, 6 or more buttons on sale somewhere and brought those back (kept on their cardboard packaging) and put them in the button box too.
As she got older she became legally blind and was no longer able to sew her own buttons (or anything else) as well as she used to. She was always more of a cook anyway. I still remember the white sweater I fixed for her. It had a few loose buttons and one missing. It was one of the very few times I got to look through something of my Grandmothers. She brought out the button box and let me have a look through them all. I found enough new buttons for the white sweater, all matching and all pink.
For years she would brag about how well I sewed those buttons on her sweater. She said I had done them so well they would never come off. I did too. I remember sewing them on and how honoured I was to do something, something real, for my Grandmother. Not just kid stuff playing around. She kept that sweater and the buttons did last years and years.
I still like buttons. I guess I have a soft spot for them. My Mother had a button box. My Grandmother’s buttons became part of that collection in time. My Mother gave me the button box a few years ago, when she started spending winters in Florida. We used to sew together but that was usually around the holidays. Now that I’m alone I still do some baking but not so much sewing. It’s kind of sad. I have that button box but it’s been many years since I last looked at any of the buttons in it.
There are some nice crafts with buttons, like button bouquets. I’ve seen a few uses for them other than the traditional clothing fasteners. One site has old/ vintage buttons turned into fancy rings. I’ve seen scrapbookers use buttons as flower centres in drawings. We have used buttons in place of game pieces. They string up on ribbon and look pretty girlie and pretty too.
National Button Day - November 16th.
Some people collect belly button lint and dust bunnies. Maybe that's enough adventure and discovery for some people. I like to collect other things. Actually, I don't collect belly button lint at all and the dust bunnies seem to collect me, on their own.
I began collecting postcards when I wrote to other young people around the world. I still have almost all of those. Later I asked family to send me postcards when they went anywhere. My Dad traveled on business now and then too so I had some from places that weren't just vacation spots. My Dad collected stamps and he would sometimes take my letters and confiscate the stamps. Now and then he did this before I had even read the letter.
At some point I began with the idea of collecting coins. I had offers to send me all sorts of things, whatever would fit into an envelop and go through the mail. I think I still have some of those too. But, my siblings liked them too. They just didn't understand that the money wasn't very spendable over here in Canada. Of course, they didn't let that bother them. Later I began collecting old Canadian coins and I do still pick up a set now and then. I have the set of never used coins from the year I was born, 1964. I was pretty impressed with those cause that was the year they changed the picture of the Queen on the back. She got older the year I was born.
I also like china posy bowls. I began keeping those when I got one from my Aunt Sally. I can't remember now if she gave it to me or if I was given it in some other way. Anyway, that was how that got started. I have five of them now.
My family would say I collect books. They complain about how many books I have quite often and for any reason what so ever. Usually this comes up when connected with moving, yet again.
I collect addresses too. If that's a real collection. I've lost count of how many addresses I've had. There's a reason I called my BackWash column Bewitching Vagabond.
I try not to collect other things but things seem to creep up on me and become collected. Other people think I will like something and then give these things to me. I always feel obligated to keep them, these treasures. Most of the time I like them, but sometimes I feel like I'm being buried alive under a lot of really nice stuff.
Do you feel obligated to keep things people have given you? Especially something someone has made or if it's something they truly treasure themselves and really feel you would too.